The Once and Future Goblin King
by jinx1764
Summary: Sequel to: I Became Queen/should read that first! 1st person narrative, Sarah's story of revenge upon Jareth, Dark Sarah, Dark Jareth, bittersweet, sci-fi elements. 18  Adults only! I mean it! dubcon,violence,adult themes
1. Sarah Williams, Dark Queen

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><p><strong>Sarah Williams, Dark Queen<strong>

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I used to mark the days as queen in my journal until I realized the futility of the venture, for time held no meaning in my castle prison surrounded by the mists. How to count without becoming lost in the seconds? Hence the reason a twenty-four hour clock was my first conjuring once I perfected spell casting. How much time passed before then I know not. How much time passed since then? I stopped recording after 10,000 days, and it's far longer since then. Strangely, I remain as young and beautiful as the first day the Goblin King tricked me, but my mind, I fear, has not.

"Get up, slave!" I yell at the figure cowering at my feet. The iron shackles weighing him down at his neck, wrists and ankles.

"Yes, Mistress," he replies in an obedient voice, soft and compliant. Standing up, he keeps his head bowed knowing he'll receive harsh punishment if he dares lay eyes upon me without permission. I hate him. How I hate him.

Naked before my sight, his arms dangle loosely at his sides. My rules forbid him to cover himself in my presence. Well versed in all my rules, the pale, blond man is my willing servant, my personal concubine. Whatever I wish him to be. It has taken many years for us to develop this relationship; years filled with pain and suffering for us both.

"Come to me." I demand and he shuffles closer, stretching the limits of the thick, enchanted chains.

"Lie down." Always submissive to my every command, he immediately lies on his back. His long hair pools on the dark stones of the dungeon cell, and he averts his eyes to avoid accidentally looking at me.

"Prepare yourself." Without question he quickly fondles and strokes himself into a impressive erection. This is always my favorite part, watching him masturbate without gaining pleasure from the experience.

"How does it feel, you arrogant prick?"

"It feels good, Mistress," he says but I can tell it's an automatic response. He hates this as much as much I love it.

I kick his flank with the sharp point of my shoe. He grunts, but doesn't dare cease his personal ministrations or shift away from my feet. In fact, he speeds up; hand pumping his shaft, hips thrusting up. I feel my own sex growing extremely damp as it always does during this time in the game. It's not fair that he _gave_ me my only true sexual experience. He knew me in all the ways a man can physically know a woman, with my tacit consent. Poor Brian...I miss him on occasion, but I never desire him anymore.

"Liar! I want you to remember everything you did to me that day!"

"Yes, Mistress."

"How do you feel?"

"Good, Mistress!" He gasps out and I can tell his orgasm approaches. Can't end my fun too soon.

"Stop!" His hands spring away from his genitals and his hip thrusting freezes, but his panting continues. Guess even he can't control everything. That's fine by me, gives me another excuse to torment him.

My clothes disappear with a snap of my fingers, except for my stilettos. As I step over his torso, part of me wants to grind the spiky end of my heel into his scrotum. I grin malevolently. I could do it. Damage him, make him scream, make him beg for mercy then heal him to begin all over again. _Maybe later_...I think, because I have my own aching need right now.

Looking down at his moonlight sculpted body from my higher vantage point; I realize despite my need to torture him, this is the part where I almost love him again. If only I could feel real love. He destroyed that possibility for me so many years ago. So I finally give him what he most desires.

"Look at me, you pathetic worm." Instantly his soulful, mismatched eyes snap up to meet mine.

"Do you love me?" I ask. I always ask before.

"Yes, of course, Mistress!" He nods enthusiastically as if I might doubt him. How can I?

"Tell me." I ask, sneering.

"I love you, Mistress." I grow wetter at his words until moisture drips down the apex of my bare thighs. His nostrils flare and I know he can smell my arousal. The deep ache within me strengthens, and I bend my knees, slowly squatting downwards towards his eagerly twitching erection.

"Louder!"

"I love you, Mistress!" He shouts, and the chains rattle as his shifts to accept me onto him. He knows this game too. Grabbing his shaft, he positions it so that I may more easily slide upon him without any additional effort. Then his hands settle lovingly upon my thighs and his eyes fill with crystal tears.

We both moan as I engulf him to the hilt. I love this part as much as I hate it. Having no other basis for comparison, he is all that I crave. Hating and loving him has twisted my psyche beyond repair, of this I am certain. Now there is only revenge. He is the slave; he serves me. How dare he inspire anything except hate.

Before I begin to move on his cock impaled so far inside of me, I conjure a swagger stick identical to the one he used to wield and strike him across his face. Not expecting this unearned punishment, he gasps in shock and pain.

"Mistress?" I can hear the betrayal in his voice. Damn him...Damn him!

"Shut up, slave!" He is not allowed to make me feel.

"Fuck me, Jareth." I command him. Lower lip trembling, he nods once and starts pounding upward into me harshly as he answers dully. His fingers dig painfully into my legs, as it should be.

"Yes, Mistress." Jareth closes his eyes which I prefer. I stare at the welt on his cheek and smile as a trickle of blood oozes towards his hair. Maybe I'll let that scar. My mind drifts away as my body moves in a counter rhythm to his violent pummeling of my body. It's difficult for him to move in this position, but I don't care. I'm the one in control this time. He lives to serve me.

My climax hits me hard and fast; my scream echoes in Jareth's cell while he remains silence during his, another rule. I stand from him quickly, his flaccid manhood slipping me with a wet slap onto his stomach. My heels click on the stone floor as I walk away. I don't bother dressing myself yet.

"Did you enjoy yourself, slave?" I ask while I slap my swagger stick on my thigh, our combined fluids trailing down the inside of my legs.

"Yes, Mistress," he says, once again my perfectly obedient submissive. I feel a little better today. I wonder how long my good mood will last?

"Good," I nod, "Until next time." With a twist of my hand, a crystal materializes in my palm and I toss it at Jareth who vanishes in a puff of black glitter. Until next time indeed, my illusions are incredibly life-like. So realistic they almost satisfy my need for vengeance..._almost_.

It's taken me several mortal lifetimes to acquire such skill. An ability I yearn to challenge by locating the real Jareth and placing him under my power in some form or fashion for a time. I've created my own world here, learned to scry the Above, yet I still cannot cross over or find the original Goblin King. Someday though, someday I will accomplish both these feats and return the rightful ruler to this prison kingdom. He who created the Dark Queen will replace me as the Once and Future Goblin King, this I swear.

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><p><strong><span>DISCLAIMER:<span> AS ALWAYS - I DON'T OWN THE RIGHTS TO ANY CHARACTERS OR STORIES OF FAN FICTION. THEY ARE WRITTEN FOR FREE AND I MAKE NO MONEY FROM ANY OF THEM.  
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><p><strong>AN: So...this sequel idea has been knocking around in my head for a few months. I even had the start of chap 1 but stalled out, though I knew the overall story I wanted to go with. Then this morning my muse told me exactly how I should start this. While I've got a rather sick and twisted mind and sense of humor on my own, I suspect HachimansKitsune's fics have likely influenced me a bit on this opening chap. However, I should point out that my Sarah is definitely into pure revenge not mutual BDSM. Her enforced imprisonment and barely mutual first sexual experience have left her twisted and borderline evil. But can you blame her? **

**I went to bed super early last night and my hands felt much better today, but still, I don't know how fast I'll be updating with all these stories in the works. I'll keep trying to be weekly or at least biweekly. **

**I'm working on Ch 5 of my original 'Dreams of the Queen' on fiction press (which just picked up 2 more alerts from brand new readers on fp, woohoo!) and am editing ch 24 of 'Within Dreams' (is it hot in here or is it just me?) **

**I've been a bit intimated by this sequel. 'I Became Queen' was so darkly balanced that I really don't want to mess it up...but since I've had this idea and it's strong and I hope will take everyone for a crazy ride...I guess we'll all find out. To infinity and beyond!**

**Jinx  
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**:o)**


	2. Only Illusions

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><p><strong>Only Illusions<strong>

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My ire only partially abated; I storm my way from the dungeons to the throne room. The rapid staccato of my boot heels strikes upon the flagstones, reverberating through the passageways of my castle. And it is _my _castle now; its former identity as the Castle beyond the Goblin City as insubstantial as the mists which surround it continuously. It requires a lot of energy to keep illusions consistent and physical. I spare myself the effort when I stay indoors.

I could have easily teleported the distance in the immense fortress, but the physical exertion allows me to displace some of my eternal frustration simmering and prickling below the surface of my skin. Unlike my predecessor, I did not fill my castle with goblins to kick; however, I better understand why he did. To be confined without hope of parole while possessing the power of creating realistic, physical illusions. It does things to one's sense of right and wrong after a time, the need for release, for meaningful interaction. Eventually you crack and conjure your first companion. Mine was Hoggle.

"Sarah," his raspy voice calls to me from the end of the hall. Never able to get Hoggle's voice correct, I endlessly re-conjure his simulacrum. "You weren't down with that rat again, were you?" He asks as he hustles closer in that peculiar, waddling gait.

"Don't question my activities!" I snap at my only version of a true friend in this hell.

"You know he ain't good for ya." The dwarf admonishes as he falls into step next to me, taking two or three hopping strides to my graceful, long legged bearing.

"Since when did you become my parent, Higgle?" I say glancing down at him with a frown. His eyes were downcast. Deliberately ridiculing him, even the part of me that used to cringe when Jareth butchered his name him hardly flinched. Afterall, this wasn't _really_ my friend. This was only an illusion I created, therefore, my abuses and insults didn't matter. This thing, this _artifice_, didn't possess real feelings or emotions; it only felt what I crafted it to feel, endued it to be. Why then did it look so sad?

"I'm just worried about you, Sarah," he tells me as his ridiculously large lower lip quivers. "You've been spending more time with...him...and I don't think that's good for ya." Stopping mid-step, I spin on Hoggle with my hands on my hips and scowl. Fear plain in his eyes, he jumps back and wrings his hands.

"Oh you don't, do you?"

My swagger stick reappears in my hand without my conscious calling, and I began slapping it against my leather clad thigh hard enough to sting. Having noticed this new habit of mine some time ago, I felt no pressing reason for modification as it gifted me some physical release. And something in the way Hoggle's eyes follow the brisk, sweeping motion of the stick... back and forth, back and forth...lulls part of my aggravation. As if he fears I might use it on him any moment, and what if I did?

"I'm sorry, Mistress," he says quickly, "I should've said anything," he adds in a hurried mumble.

"That's right, you shouldn't have." I lean down at the waist to his eye level, and say in a threatening tone, "My business is my own. I don't care to have your opinion on the matter."

"Yes, Mistress." He nods frantically, keeping his eyes downcast like a good little dwarf.

"You forget yourself, Hogbrain. Shall I have to remake you again?"

"No, Mistress!" He cries out. I heard the abject terror in his voice, as if illusions felt fear or pain...absurd! This was becoming a serious problem with Hoggle. Every time I conjured him anew his personality struggled for more independence. I wanted a supportive best friend, not a nag! If this persisted I might consider discontinuing Hoggle altogether. Facing an eternity with his interfering would finish driving me around the bend.

"Then keep this," I poke his obvious facial protrusion with my stick, "out of my business."

"Yes, Mistress," he bows and scrapes, backing away down the hall, "anything you say, Mistress." Standing upright, I watch him worm his way from my sight. How did I ever consider him my best friend? Now the thought of anyone as a best friend sickens me, talking about our feelings and our mutual experiences. I have none of those things.

I am a seriously damaged individual, but at least I'm not blind to my disability. Nosce te ipsum and all that rot. I just don't care anymore. Why should I? There's no one here to impress; no one here to offend or worry except me. Not like I'll hurt anyone here with my fucked up psyche; and besides, I really only want to hurt a particular someone, and he's not here, so who cares if a little bit spills over. We'll call it practice for my special day.

Good mood solidly evaporated, I heave a disgruntled sigh, spin on my heel, and continue my walk to the throne room. I planned on scrying the Above today, as I do when the mood strikes me, but it will likely take more effort now that Hoggle's little speech disturbed my concentration. Perhaps, for later, I'll devise a suitable surprise punishment. I smirk. Yes...I'm feeling better already.

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I stare into the swirling depths of my over-sized scrying crystal supported by a tripod in the style of cast iron. The irony amuses me as I once believed Jareth to be Fae, thus vulnerable to iron. After reading the abandoned tomes, I believe him to be human; or at least previously human. For reasons unknown, by persons unknown, he was banished to this place of in between. Little else is written about him or by him in the castle's vast library, but this I have surmised from random nuggets of information.

Within the crystal a puncture finally forms in the veil separating the worlds, clarity is granted to my eager eyes, and I sigh. The Above is vibrant and alive and _real_. Everything this place is not. I bask in the random glimpse granted to me as my control often falters with my rising emotions. Directing the beam of magic to see what I desire is difficult, and the world is so different that I wonder if it has truly changed or have I?

Strange cars with only three wheels zip along highways. Bluish-black reflective panels line entire roof-lines, or I see the scalps of skyscrapers which look to have fields of grass. Focusing the beam shows me people scurrying about wearing odd clothing: colors and designs more extreme than a Pollock abstract, shinier than aluminum, and more revealing than the skankiest, airport strip bar dancer.

_What happened to my world? How long has it been since my last scrying? After my brother, Toby, died, I ceased tracking my family, and in my grief I lost the desire to scry for a long time. Eventually, however, the need for revenge drew me and I started again, but not as often._

I aim the magic at this now foreign place, searching for Jareth. Look-a-likes I follow until they prove me wrong. Occasionally I peek into lives from sheer voyeurism, yet after so many years not one inkling of the Goblin King. Imagine my mounting frustration, until today.

"Who is that? Go back!" I instruct the crystal; it pans obediently to a blond headed man walking away.

"Do you see him?" Using my stick to point at the familiar figure, I ask Sir Didymus at my left.

"Verily, my lady," he replies, nodding; the feather in his cap fluttering at his vigorous motion.

Sitting forward on my cushioned throne, I peer keenly into the sphere; the magic trails behind the lithe, well-dressed man better than any professionally trained blood hound. Unlike his bystanders, he is not dressed garishly. How unusual, rather anachronistic even.

"It's him!" I shift closer, my gloved hand flattened to the crystal's surface, "Jareth, I'd know you anywhere." My stomach clenches, along with other lower portions of my anatomy. Such a dichotomy of sentiment he inspires within me as I watch him carelessly stroll down the sidewalk of some major city.

"Verily, my lady," Sir Didymus repeats, nodding. That's all he ever says. More cautious by the time I created him, I made sure his courtly ethics were eliminated with much of his potentially disapproving personality.

Ignoring the puppet fox, I quickly scan the view for clues to Jareth's location. He approaches the main entrance of a large building and the marquee comes into focus. I read the name aloud, hearing the excitement in my voice.

"Museum of Fine Art, Houston." At last! I smack my hand against the crystal, the leather sounds dull upon the glass. "I've got you, Goblin King!" I practically growl as he mounts the building's steps, one hand reaching for the door before he stops and looks over his shoulder to stare directly at me through my scrying crystal. Chills chase each other from the base of my neck, down my back, and I hold my breath. _Can he see me?_

He mouths something indecipherable, his ruthless eyes glittering visibly, then grins wide enough to show his canines; my crystal instantly shrouds in blackness, hundreds of fracture lines form, and expand. Immediately conjuring a barrier, it shields me from the blackened shards exploding outward with an ear-splitting crash.

"NO!" I shout in useless denial, staring at the huge debris field of destroyed crystal. Sir Didymus...I glanced to my left. He did not survive the onslaught, shouldn't there be blood? I toss a vanishing crystal at his shredded body. I will have to conjure another agreeable knight, later, when I've dealt with the rage and lust boiling upwards with my gut. It burns my veins, as if I drank a caustic fluid which merges with my blood rather than killing me, searing from the inside out.

_Oh, how I wish it would kill me._

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><p><strong><span>DISCLAIMER:<span> AS ALWAYS - I DON'T OWN THE RIGHTS TO ANY CHARACTERS OR STORIES OF FAN FICTION. THEY ARE WRITTEN FOR FREE AND I MAKE NO MONEY FROM ANY OF THEM.**

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><p><strong>spartichic: <strong>Thanks! I know, right? I love Dark Sarah as much as I love Dark Jareth fics. Their characters have the capacity for such complexity, especially when paired or pitted together. LOL, I guess it probably says something about me as well. As for her revenge...things aren't always what they seem. Awesome that you don't want them together in this. Yet Sarah is very conflicted about her lust, rightfully so.

**Anne Oying: **I know, Jareth someone's bitch? Right...I knew when my muse told me to start it this way that this first chap was perfect! A twist right at the beginning. I love it! As far as Sarah's evilness...it just shows that in the right conditions we all have the capacity for great evil or great good.

**Bowie's Mistress: **You're welcome! Thanks for reading them! I wouldn't be half as inspired if no one cared to read my work. Sure...writers write for themselves first, but we all know that's only half of the truth. We crave feedback. And once our skills begin to reach a certain level and our story ideas are non-stop, we really crave feedback. Please feel free to indulge your addiction as often as you like as they have no calories and are legal.

**HachimansKitsune: **LOL, *blushes* Thanks! I don't know that I would crown myself that as their are many other writers with awesome dark fics. (Sublitor for one! although not Dark Sarah) Glad your muse is getting a good meal! I know some cruel women too. Seems a shame to waste a nice package over just revenge.

**Victoria Pendragon:**Thanks! I'm hoping it turns out they way I envision it. As for Sarah's plan...we'll have to see how it goes. Jareth is quite powerful.

**scifigeek10: **Thanks! I've had the basic premise in my head for awhile now, but the start was all wrong until now. This start also helps other story arcs fall perfectly into place. :o)

**Shenlong Girl: **Yes...pleasantly twisted is a good phrase. I hope this will be as fun a journey as the first. Thanks for the warning. I updated the summary to include that.

**tu: **LOL, yes exactly! I do believe that fanfic and fiction in general is an excellent way to exorcise our personal darkness.

**ForestLadyKatherine: **Thanks! I loved writing a twist in the first chapter. Interesting that you should ponder Sarah's ability to complete her quest for vengeance.

**futrCSI1490: **She is very damaged but her imprisonment and isolation. Glad you like, hope I can keep this as interesting as the first (and as smutty)

**rahnaesmomma: **Thanks! Hope you keep enjoying it.

**L.G. Lena: **Thank you so much! *blushes* That's quite a compliment! Hope I can continue to deliver the goods! :o)

**Norehnka: **She is very damaged, yes. I wanted the first chapter to be shocking and surprising to illustrate her mindset. To give her a starting point in which to develop her character further as she searches for Jareth. And she will develop. Thank you so much! Another wonderful compliment! *blushes more*

**Lady Augustin: **Sarah isn't so much evil as very, very damaged. Makes one wonder how Jareth started out, doesn't it? As for when they meet? Muhahahahaha...I have that all in my head.

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><p><strong>AN: It's ironic that this sequel has received not only so many reviews right off, but so many "yeah you're writing a sequel" type reviews considering that "Queen" only has 69 (lol!) reviews. However, until recently it was one of my top hit fics. So I'm figuring that lots of lurkers are shy about leaving a review to such an intense and somewhat 'disappointing' fic. That and they're shocked speechless which I suspect happens sometimes. That's okay! In fact, with so many hits I think it says something about such visceral writing. Like the car wreck or the dead body on the side of the road. People have to look, they want to look but they don't want to admit they want to look. **

**I have a feeling these chapters will tend to be shorter as they were in 'Queen' but there'll likely be more than 'Queen'. Writing 1st person is very claustrophobic for a writer and makes expansion of scenes/chapters more difficult. But it can be very intense and challenging for both reader and writer. I feel this series is well suited to 1st. Initially I agonized over whether or not to write this sequel in 1st person as well, but I feel now that it was the correct decision. Short chap notwithstanding. This one is mainly present tense (with a few past tense musings woven in it) while 'Queen' was past tense.  
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** This is, afterall, Sarah's story and is best told by her. **

**Jinx**

**:o)  
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	3. Never Enough

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><p><strong>Never Enough<strong>

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Whatever anger I experienced before finding him becomes pastel compared to the rage coursing through me after Jareth destroyed my scrying crystal; I stood amidst the charred fragments, my smallest muscles vibrating. The amount of energy required to conjure the large crystal anew; I growl, days of virtual time sapped from me while he escapes, slithers from my sight. And the most important question yet: How did he retain his powers in the Aboveground?

I need to expend this energy; it is useless for spell-casting, worse than useless, it's dangerous, distracting. Conjuring necessitated extreme attentiveness and deliberation; uncontrolled emotion causes unanticipated results. Pushing a few shards with the toe of my boot, I shove them arbitrarily about; a spark of fear settling in my gut at how effortlessly he repelled my tracking. I knew he was powerful, possibly more powerful then I first realized. My plans...I would have to alter them.

"Sir Didymus, I'm going below," I say, looking over at my knight, forgetting his demise. I had already vanished his remains. "Right...I'll get back to you."

Twisting my hands quickly, I materialize another vanishing crystal, and toss it at the mess in my throne room. Much better, I detest disorder in my castle; preferring its upkeep, the lack of poultry and goblins helped. My version of prison involves medieval tapestries, Gothic carvings, and lots and lots of tall, floor candles. I like the romantic atmosphere, and once created they supply a low magic energy source of light— better smell too.

Leaving the throne room behind, I rapidly walk down the spiraling path to the same dungeons I departed earlier today, or was it yesterday? How long did I scry this time? I don't bother to track anymore. My skin itching as I drew closer to my destination, anticipation caused my hands to shake. I want him under my power, badly! Particularly after his arrogant display.

As soon as I enter a dungeon cell, I conjure a specific crystal and lob it at a wall, my arm stretching out fully with my body as if I pitching a fast ball; the crystal explodes and my special pet appears as ordered. Beautiful, perfect, lovely...the naked, white flesh of his back and buttocks contrast with the sinister, dark stones of the wall to which he stood shackled, spread eagle. So bright, his skin near glowed in the gloom of his cell, his starlight hair shimmering even as the dankness surrounding him drank from his radiance.

"Jareth, have you behaved while I was away?" I croon, so excited!

"Yes, Mistress," he answers, the wall muffling his obedient baritone.

"LIAR!" I shout, his shoulders flinch and hunch as his head bows silently closer to the wall.

"I've been watching you! I know you've been bad!" A whip materializes in my right hand; I blink. I didn't call for this; my control is slipping already, but the magic knew my desires. Yes...it always knows what I want, and this would feel so _good!_

"I hate you!" My right arm swings out, pivoting from my elbow, my legs bent and splayed to brace my center of gravity. I flick my wrist sharply, transferring the energy from my hand down the sinuous leather, cracking the metal tip against Jareth's back. I learn fast how to weld a whip; turns out I'm a natural.

Bodily he jolts, limbs yanking at the taut shackles, the iron digs into his flesh; he throws his head back and screams. I'd never punished him like this before. The action on my muscles burns so well, so real; it makes me feel _alive_! The acute sight of red blooming, marring his faultless skin brought forth something deep within me, made it hum with pleasure. God help me... I'm sure my eyes must be glowing as I nearly orgasm with every fall of my arm.

"I hate you so much!" I snap the whip again, criss-cross the first few lines; a fourth bloody trail and his scream, again, again, _again, __**again!**_

I lose myself in the crimson rhythm for a long time until...breaths heavy from the exertion, my body aching, yet still abuzz with dissatisfaction. It wasn't enough. I could torture and maim and kill this copy a million times, a million times a million and still it would never be enough.

When I eventually cease whipping my pseudo-Jareth, only a man-shaped, mushy tatter of red hangs from the wall. His low whimpers hardly reach my ears, his vocal cords screamed ragged. Irritated at him for living, I throw the entire whip at him, the hard handle strikes the center of his back; he doesn't move. I doubt any magic remains for him to flinch, slumped as he was from the chains.

"Don't ever lie to me again." Disdain fills my voice, he doesn't answer. I leave him hanging in his cell this time to think about his crimes against me. Eventually I'll release him, or lose concentration causing his construct to fade.

Discontent continues to burn in me; I feel restless, twitchy. I need so much more than violence to subdue this raging insanity expanding within my soul. Hoggle's words drift back to me; I shove them away. I crave..._him_.

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><p>Walking directly from the dungeons, I go to my personal chambers; none cross my path, likely they sense my mood. I am the only mood important here. A few conjured retainers, other than Hoggle and Didymus, live in the castle. My experiments of originally: mish-mashes from my previous life and my imagination, though I've never copied my family, that just seems...wrong. Some worked out, some did not. Presently silence reigns in the halls of my fortress, candlelight flickers at regular intervals; the flames jump and dance at my swift passage. My conjurings are very real; they tempt me to forget myself.<p>

I enter my chambers, once the Goblin King's; and one sweeping wave of my arm lit the room in fresh candles exposing a typical large, extravagant bed dominating the otherwise rustic atmosphere. The scent of vanilla fills the air. A fireplace taller than me fills one wall while random pieces of hand carved, wood furniture sat scattered throughout; these are all real, a part of the castle before my residence. Or perhaps he made them, I don't know really.

Snapping my fingers woke my two personal servants who emerge from the shadowy corners; they await my every command. These two blandly dressed and appearing, Jareth look-a-likes are the only beings permitted in my quarters daily without my presence; they never speak as they comprehend my wishes without answering. Made with minimal intelligence, they are eunuchs, harmless to me in every possible way. I suppose one might say I'm a bit obsessed.

"Attend me." Holding my arms outstretched, they swiftly undress and remove my clothing, bathing me with a warm, moist cloth as they bare my skin; I'll indulge in a full bath later, afterwards, once my I quench my need. I rarely pander to this part of myself, believing it made me weak; but today...today was a very bad day and I hunger for more satiation.

Once nude, I conjure another crystal and drop it a few feet away; a small puff of smoky glitter and he appears—my version of Jareth I secretly yearn, hate to admit wanting. I resist his temptation until my stress levels demand this release, sometimes years pass before I cave.

"My queen," he says; his voice sultry and slow; he lives by no timeline other than my needs, what need have he to rush?

"Jareth." My throat constricts at the sight of his flawlessness; my breathing increases and the heat long smoldering bursts in my gut as my eyes travel down the length of his molded physique. I made this doppelganger to every physical specification I ever dreamt, my embodiment of male superiority and domination.

"You have need of me?" He asks, his face impassive, but I wasn't interested in his expressions. Thinking of that, my eyes lowered, lingering on his groin; already I feel my body redirecting my energy to more worthwhile pursuits as throbbing started between my legs and my nipples harden to extreme sensitivity. I had created him for one intention; and his dual, equally large phalluses, mounted one atop the other like unicorn horns were made to fit my body exquisitely.

"Yes, you know what to do."

He bows his head, his silken hair curtaining his face, "Yes, my queen." This Jareth is the only being permitted to address me as such...

In a flash he grabs and twists me around, bringing my back flush to his chest; his dual erections announcing themselves between my thighs and buttocks. Somewhere he produces a blindfold and leather strap which he uses to quickly secure me; with my vision gone and my wrists secured above my head, I feel wonderfully helpless. I let my arms bend at the elbows and fall back behind his head until my back arches away from him.

His harsh breathing sounds in my left ear as he grinds his hips to mind. I feel his rough hands explore my front, caressing, pinching and delving into me, spreading my moisture to himself in preparation; I am entirely bare to him. The naked skin of his chest warms my back, the hard planes of his torso contrast with my softer edges. I shiver.

"Do you like that, my queen?"

"Yes!" I hiss and grab the back of his head with my bound hands as he spreads my thighs wide, lifts me off my feet, and leans back, both my openings teased by the tips of his erections. His strength once again surpasses my expectations! I forgot how strong and agile I made him. If I thought he possessed any power to leave my chambers I might fear him.

Blind to my surroundings, dizziness engulfs me as my Jareth holds me upwards, splayed over his torso, and torturously impales me upon him using my own weight. I'm so wet half of me offers no resistance. I scream in pain and ecstasy as he simultaneously fills my emptiness, his size shoves passed my limits; it causes my brain to misfire and stutter and he has yet to thrust deeper.

Limp, my arms and legs dangle around him. How he stands, leans backwards with me like this I don't know or care, just that he continue because now his arms wrap around me, hold me, search out my sensitive spots and I feel like I'm floating. All my cares dissipate in my dark world of physical sensation swirling around Jareth's rocking, pulsing inside of me. God...why do I deny myself this?

"Harder."

"Yes, my queen." Somehow, without leverage, his hips slam faster, pounding farther into my body; tingles blossom with the sharpness.

"Oh God..._harder!_" I yell. He complies until I feel my body practically bounce off of his with every rebound and full slid back down.

"YES..._YES!"_ The pain mixes with pleasure...so close then his fingers brush my clit and I explode, electricity zapping every nerve. I grab his hips with my legs from behind and tighten myself so hard around his torso that I feel his lengths hit far inside me, painfully, and I scream again, this time purely in pain as he begins his double climax.

He stumbles forward, shoves my face into the bed and finishes pounding uncontrollably into my battered body; like a feral beast I hear him growl as his climaxes pulse, tearing my delicate tissues. All I can feel now is pain, a dual, internal stabbing as my Jareth damages something I suspect is rather important inside of me. I want to care, but I don't.

He grunts in my ear on his last thrust, a straining, pushing effort that buries my face further into the duvet, nearly smothering me. I can't see him behind me; I'm still wearing the blindfold, but I feel his hands on my hips as he withdraws from my orifices. A hot rush of fluid follows him, gushes from my body and I slump fully to my bed, groaning in pain and weakness. The sticky fluid keeps flowing from me and I remember why I rarely call this Jareth. My arms, tied above my head awkwardly, are numb like weights, but I can't muster the will to move.

"My queen, do you need me?" He asks, blandly. Not very bright this version.

"Go away," I croak, disgusted with myself.

"Yes, my queen." I sense his departure as I sense my blood still pouring rapidly from my shredded innards. My consciousness fades quickly and I feel suddenly weary; perhaps I'll nap for a bit.

_Is this what it's like to die?_

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I awake in my bed, in the castle beyond the mists; I am alive and youthful as the day the Goblin King first tricked me. My conjurings are faded and my body healed, once again. I lie in my bed as if I fell asleep alone, unbound, clean. Tears slip from my eyes; I roll over and sob my anguish into the velvet duvet.

Have I mentioned I cannot die? I've tried to kill myself many times, once my sanity tread too close to the boundary, but even that escape is lost to me. I wonder, was it lost to him as well?

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><p><strong><span>DISCLAIMER:<span> AS ALWAYS - I DON'T OWN THE RIGHTS TO ANY CHARACTERS OR STORIES OF FAN FICTION. THEY ARE WRITTEN FOR FREE AND I MAKE NO MONEY FROM ANY OF THEM.**

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><p><strong>Bowie's Mistress: <strong>Yep...it's different and Houston...well, it's the fourth largest city in the U.S., it always gets ignored in fanfic, it's unusual, and it's my hometown. Jareth is indeed powerful; something which Sarah will eventually face personally.

**Victoria Pendragon: **Maybe...maybe not...I, too, wonder what he's doing. The sneaky bastard.

**xxyangxx2006: **LOL, oh yes, the drama! Not as easy as it looks with one 'real' character right now. Thanks! I'm getting ready to move passed exploring Sarah's state of mind as she deals with her prison and locates Jareth...muahahahaha!

**Norenhnka: **She found him, it was enviable otherwise no story. And yes he still has his powers so once they met up...oh boy...what will happen?

**HachimansKitsune: **You read this at work? Lol, my darkest, smuttest fic? LOL, that's better than my Cpt. Crunch mistake! Thanks! I'm glad it balanced well, although I keep going back to fix present tense writing. ARgh...1st person present tense is such a pain to write when it's not you're own journal. That's basically how I have to write this fic. I have to REALLY put myself in Sarah's headspace to think like her, to write like it's me actively telling the story as it happens. Which is so difficult, good practice and fun to stretch my writing chops, but I don't naturally write this way. I bet this chap has you purring louder! :o)

**Shenlong Girl: **Oh yeah it is, not that it's bad just not my default writing style. But I enjoy practicing other styles, mixing it up for me and my readers otherwise everyone will always expect the same old thing and that bores the snot out of me. Thanks! I'm glad I'm keeping it interesting!

**Lady Augustin: **He is a sneaky fox and so much more. I wonder if he does admire her or what his motivations are...he'll probably tell her eventually. You know he can't keep his mouth shut. I would say he is evil. LOL, funny that you agree with me on the reviews. Lurkers are funny but I understand. I was once a lurker too.

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **You looked, I saw you! You admit it! haha! Awesome!

**bura400: **Thank you very much! I'm hoping so. As a sequel it has a lot to live up to. Awesome, thanks!

**Buffy: **Lol, well...in a word- interesting. To be a successful writer (of anything but math textbooks) one's writing must be _interesting_. That can mean many different things to many different people, but to write boring is the greatest sin any writer can commit. Because...why bother?

**futrCSI1490:**Aha! You can't look away! Darkness fascinates people even when they don't want to admit it. Sarah is very creepy but her character will experience many trails in this story. Jareth...he'll come later on but when he does...oh boy...

**Anne Oying: **Yes! Exactly! You've explored the very meat of what the magic of illusions means to Sarah and Jareth. Is it real or is it memorax? Does it matter? Is reality external or internal? Or is it both? What does it mean to be good/evil? Do actions against others count if they're not real? Do they count if they are? Does it matter if our actions damage ourselves regardless? Do morality and ethics matter if 'no one is looking'? How does that effect one's soul? Does it effect one's soul? Squeee! I'm so excited that I'm churning your brain so early! This fic is more ethically layered that the first and will continue to be so. Remember Sarah was only 18ish when he trapped her, very immature emotionally. I'll address Jareth later on when Sarah confronts him. Obviously in a 1st person fic I can't do much with him until then.

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><p><strong>AN: OMG! Some of ya'lls questions are so awesome! Even with the dark smut of this fic I really wanted to write this as a deeper ethically quandary for Sarah, which will become more apparent later on. It was important to set up her frame of mind now to contrast with the later story. She's not so much evil as misguided, twisted and immature, stunted. **

**Question: Can someone be redeemed from that existence? Will they want to be? How? She hates herself as much as she hates Jareth. I love, love, love philosophical debates so any other questions/comments on ethics PLEASE voice them! Love it! This was a majorly badass chap to write. Not very realistic on the sexy times but...hey...it's my goblin king fantasy #29 so there! Suspend believe and enjoy. And it was actually important to revealing her character. She's deeply conflicted about Jareth. Frankly, I'm not entirely sure what she'll do when she catches him.**

** FYI: I'm still working on ch. 6 of 'Dreams of the Queen' it's a pivotal bridging chap leading up to major pivotal chaps so I'm trying to get it just right. Also working on "Concern" Have got some fun ideas for their Motel 6 vacation. LOL. Thought they needed a change of venue. **

**Thanks for all support, and hope you enjoyed this darkly smutty chapter!**

**Jinx**

**:o)  
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	4. The Game is Afoot

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><p><strong>The Game is Afoot<strong>

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It took days of spell casting for me to recreate another large crystal capable of scrying into the Aboveground; I made sure to cast it stronger, more powerful than my previous. I would find Jareth again, find him and draw him to me. Unfortunately, I had not planned on his powers remaining. I had assumed they would fade once he left this prison; obviously I was wrong.

My original plans required re-vamping. He would not be so easy to glamour back as I hoped. No matter ... I was not without resources and imagination. And my ever present desire for revenge, mustn't forget that. Picking up his trail proved easy as I marked the location seconds before he destroyed my crystal. It glowed a faint aura at the door of the Houston Museum, and led outward into the city proper – a blurry yellowish fog slightly wider than a man.

"Follow it," I command and the crystal pans obediently, the image swiveling and twisting along the sidewalks during some late evening hour. I see how the sunlight tints the concrete a rosy gray, and less people and vehicles fill the roads and sidewalks. But then, I assume this futuristic world worked similar to the one I left behind.

Sitting alone in my dimly lit throne room, I keenly watch the orb track Jareth's trail throughout this strange city. I had yet to remake Sir Didymus, and Hoggle tends to avoid me after my _reawakenings, _claims I'm cranky. Well, wouldn't you be? It makes me feel all itching and tight in my skin, takes awhile to wear off. Thinking about the trail, I wonder where it might lead, weaving through the gleaming spires and raised highways shading the ground level. I wonder how and why, of all places in the world, he chose this city to hide in; if, indeed, he hid. I remind myself it _is_ Jareth; he considers all angles. There must be a reason he resides here. One I have yet to discover.

A steady blinking of the scrying orb shakes me from my thoughts, and I see the trail ends at the door of an apartment. Telling it to pan again, I see the door stands alone within a large lobby accompanied by an elevator opposite, an elaborate bouquet of fresh flowers as tall centerpiece.

"Looks like he's living in a penthouse," I say aloud to no one, my fist supporting my chin on the arm of my throne. "I would expect no less of the arrogant bastard." I sneer, bile rising to my throat. The burn reminds me why I hate him.

Penthouse, indeed! Liked he deserved to live so well after what he did to me, what he probably did to others currently. I had to get to him, trick him. Would he be expecting me so soon? Probably, I had to chance it.

"Go inside." The crystal obeys, shifting the view from the lobby to inside his apartment and I'm astounded by the understated luxury, as if generations of money and taste coated each inch.

"My God, Jareth," I say, leaning closer to the crystal, my eyes staring so long I feel them drying. "What have you gotten into?" Prestige was never my thing, but during my time Aboveground I was not ignorant of haute couture and this home screamed money in every real wood furnishing, high tech electronic gadget I barely recognized, and object's de art which surly must be considered antiques by now. And I few I knew already were.

"Where are you, where _are_ you?" I murmur, feeling my boot heels slipping on the throne step as my weight shifts forward, my entire body tense and humming. Never has the lack of conjuring sound through scrying frustrated me so; the act akin to watching a silent color movie until ... _there_! A flash of movement in the distance, through his living room, reflected in a mirror hanging on the wall.

"Go farther in!" Zooming quickly, the crystal follows my command and I feel bird-like zipping through his home, through a hall painted medium gray – it reminds me of my castle flagstone – and into the farthest room through the open door.

"Oh my God!" There he is! Standing with his back to me, his hair shoulder length and slightly darker, but I recognize his slim build, just as I recognized it days ago. He's facing what looks to be large television screen built into the wall, hands on his hips, and I realize we're in his bedroom because there's a massive brocade bed at the far side of the room.

"Well he certainly didn't give up any perks, did he?" Now's my chance, he doesn't realize I'm spying on him this time; I need to be swift, hope it works, turn his trick on him. Closing my eyes, I focus all my energy on my next spell, the one I've been preparing for years for this exact moment. My power to appear in the Aboveground is limited since I am technically trapped in this 'Underground'; however, I've learned there are loopholes. The same ones Jareth used against me.

Casting my strongest glamour to disguise my visage, I throw myself through the veil of my prison, feeling the strands tug at me like tangled spider webs. Forcing a path, strands breaking, I open my eyes to a new vantage point from within Jareth's television. _This is interesting. _I never quite know what reflective surface I'll end up inside or how long I'll stay, but this I can work with because he's staring right at me. And though my view is fuzzy due to the annoying screen I'm looking through, it's good enough to see that his attention is caught. And at least I can hear him now.

"Fuck!" He shouts and stumbles back, arms tossed up. Oh, I _love_ it! It gives me a tingling between my thighs to see him shocked.

"Come to me..." I intone in my best Goblin Queen voice, deep and sultry, hands stretching out to beseech him. "_Come to me_..."

"W-what?" He stutters, his feet shuffling forward stiffly.

"Come to me!" I repeat, putting all my will behind the magic and he jerks forward several lurching steps, his hands rising. _Oh, now this is too easy! _Part of me is almost disappointed observing Jareth stumble toward his television, words mumbling from his slack lips. Almost disappointed.

"Who ... who are ..." he tries to speak, I see him resist my draw so I add one last burst of power, sensing my time growing short.

"_Come to me now_!" And it ends, rather anti-climatically, when he flies into the screen, hands and face smacking the surface and everything shatters around us. My gloved hand closes around his throat and I drag him through in one great yank.

_ I've got you! _ I rejoice internally, pulling Jareth through the veil as if reeling in a wriggling trout and stand triumphantly in my throne room with him dangling from my grip, his toes hardly brushing the stones of my floor. He's struggling, gasping, clawing at my vise fingers. Having nothing live to compare it to, I don't know my own strength; perhaps I've overestimated him afterall. Looking up at the base of his chin, his head tilted back, hair dangling; I admire how my leather clad fingers dig into his pale flesh.

"Not so high and mighty now are you, Jareth?" I say, mocking him, add a little shake which makes him gurgle and turn a sickly blue as I hear a crunch - probably a vital piece to his anatomy. Then something strikes me. He's attempting to speak; should I allow it? Feeling suddenly magnanimous, I lower my arm to better read his lips and my heart skips a half a dozen beats.

"Who the fuck are you?" I shout into this strange man's face, this man who looks vaguely like Jareth but decidedly is not; but he can't answer me, now while I'm strangling him. Enraged, I toss him across the room and he flails – head over ass – into the wall, a wet crunch filters back to my ears. I follow up with a manifested crystal which explodes upon him, stringing him up spread eagle to the same wall. Dazed, this man hangs his blond mane, rapidly matting with blood, to his chest and moans. Not bothering to walk, I teleport the short distance and grab his hair.

With a vicious wrench, I jerk his head upright. "Don't you dare pass out; I have questions for you." He blinks, slowly, red liquid trickles passed his brows, probably stings his eyes.

"Who ... are y- you..." he asks, his voice hardly more than a bruised whisper. It looks like he's having difficulty taking a deep breath and I suspect I may have broken a rib or two. I shove his head into the stone behind him making sure to slam it extra hard.

"I'm your fucking nightmare and I want to know where the fuck is Jareth." I hiss directly into his face.

"J-Jareth?" He sounds stunned. "My uncle?" Now I'm stunned. Fingers acutely numb, I release his hair and his head flops forward, large droplets of blood spattering on my clean flagstone floor.

"What?" _His uncle? HIS UNCLE? What the hell is going on here?_

Chills creep up my back, settle in my heart and squeeze. I'm afraid to ask my next question, more afraid of it then I've ever been of Jareth.

"Who are you?" I ask. His head rises, shaky, and he stares at me with icicle-blue eyes that I belatedly recognize as Jareth's.

"What's your name?" I rephrase my question, concentrating on keeping my voice strong while his brows furrow. He appears to be debating the risk vs. profit of cooperating, then with a defeated look, his body relaxing into his wall restraints, he answers.

"David Tobias Williams, why?"

_Oh God. OhGodohGodohGod! Jareth, what have you done? _

_._

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><p><strong>xxyangxx2006: <strong>I agree with you regarding the redemption. Which is going to be part of the story I'm going to explore. As for her obsession *ahem* yeah ...she's majorly into it. But then can you blame her? And there will be more smut.

**futrCSI1490: **Yes, poor Sarah. I do feel bad for her and wouldn't want anyone to live such a painful, tormented life. I hope to have to get intense, though I doubt it'll be 30 chaps. My 1st persons tend to be shorter for some reason. As for debates, as much or as little as you like! I do plan on having my lovely twists though.

**Anon: **A double gifted Jareth ... it's meant to be a little scary. And if you read the first story Queen you'd understand the reference and why she's obsessed with that manifestation of Jareth. As for Bowie's description of Jareth, yeah maybe. I realize I'm diverting from canon a bit but then if you've never hung out in the fashionable sections of Houston (which I have - lived here over 32 yrs) then I'd say Houston has lots to offer. It is the 4th largest city in the US. Just fyi.

**Buffy: **Oh she'll catch him alright, but what will happen when she does? He's a sneaky sucker. This chapter reveals that. Sorry about the penis torturing the lesbian, lol! But glad you were able to get some nice mental images anyhow. And glad the previous chapters really set up her set of mind like I wanted. Yeah, she's insane, but question: is it permanent?

**rosalilly: **Very true. She's alone at a young age, has a bad home life then trapped by Jareth without guidelines to stop her. It would tend to lead one down the path of evil and insanity. I'm glad to have the gray areas of Jareth also implied by it, which are true. He lived it just as she is. Love and hate are so similar. I suspect she'll have a difficult time separating them.

**HachimansKitsune: **LOL, I know I haven't updated this in awhile and your stories have taken their own turn since then but it's fun to see how far to push within the borders of the story. She does wield her power without full confidence while Jareth doesn't have that problem. I plan on answering the questions of Jareth's power in later chapters. Glad you enjoyed the last chapter!

**Shenlong Girl: **She is very far gone and Jareth may be able to heal her, but not the way you may be thinking.

**Roronoa Emi: **And it's going to get crazier. I'll answer your question: no there are no ties to from the copies to the original.

**compa16: **Oh yeah!

**Lady Augustin: **Thanks! The confrontation will come eventually. A perfect match for him ... hmmm ... interesting.

**moira hawthorne: **I know, right? These are really my darkest, smuttest fics. Thanks!

**andromeda31: **Thanks for reviewing here! Glad you enjoyed Queen and jumped right into King! This one is taking me longer though, lol!

**Scarlet Dewdrops: **Thanks! What she'll do with him ... oh boy...

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. I didn't mean for it to take this long, especially for a short chapter, but Within Dreams took over, then my original fic and now I'm trying to do NaNoWrMo this month. And working fulltime and my business. Ugh. I'm on track but it's tough since I'm been sick off and on this week and back pain last week. Just when I feel good for a few weeks then bam ... sick again. It's all the sleep deprivation. Hell on the immune system. Anyhow ... I'm also still working on my other WIP fics so no worries. I haven't given up. ****So thanks to everyone who's hanging in with me!**

**Thanks!**

**Jinx**

**:o)**


	5. The Thickening of the Plot

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><p><strong> The Thickening of the Plot<strong>

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I'm staring at him, the man hanging by my conjured chains on the wall of my throne room, his bloodshot eyes glare back at me and the contest continues for an indeterminate amount of time. I suspect his silence is due to fear since I've already half pulped him. Seeing the skittishness in his eyes-his ice blue irises pin on me as I pace, his teeth pinch his lower lip stained with blood rivuleting down from his scalp, and his hands blanch from clenching-I know his fear of me is absolute. My heart speeds, my breath quickens, I revel in his fear, want to bathe in it, but...

_David Tobias Williams ... his name is David Tobias Williams... _Something thick and hard and impossible to swallow forms in my upper throat, forces me to rip my stinging eyes from his wary ones. Then I comprehend why I feel – _feel – _this...emotion. While his eyes are Jareth's, his nose and jaw are faintly my brother's – _Tobias Christian Williams. _

But my brother is dead_, _I remind myself, eyes on the wall farthest from my disturbing prisoner. Both of us so still, I don't hear the faintest jangle from his chains. I watched my brother's body go six–feet–underground long ago...so long ago. Then a thought bolts through me, a question with an answer finally in my grasp. In my rage, I had nearly forgotten my first and simplest desire. Pivoting on my boot heel, I face him abruptly, causing him to cringe and the metal to clatter against the stone wall.

"What year is it?" I ask him; his expression leaps from alarmed to baffled, his pale brows furrowed bristles to arches.

"What?"

"What...year...is...it?" I emphasize each word with a heel strike upon the flagstone; every step brings me closer to his flinching body. For the first time in forever, I feel something internal trying to restrain my violent urges; like a belt squeezing my torso, my craving to lash out is forced back and down. Yet I don't understand why. There's so much I don't understand right now that my head pounds with the weight of it.

"Um...2176," he says, hesitantly as if I'm simple–minded. Half of me recoils, the rest reacts. My hand jerks upward intending to slash his face; he balks, eyes slamming shut, mouth grimacing and that internal _something_ stays my brutal hand. _What is wrong with me? _And I honestly don't know which half I'm questioning: my unconscious need to strike or why I stopped. Lids slowly cracking open, he peeks at me, his cringe relaxing slightly.

"You going to hit me or not?"

"I..." _I don't know._ I want to say it aloud, but the words glue themselves to my tongue. In less than probably an hour, this man has turned my staid little world upset down, and I bark out a harsh laugh at the irony.

Obviously feeling bolder now that he's escaped one beating, he asks, "Are you insane?"

Oh, what an excellent question. I have often wondered this very thing, inquired my twisted gray matter and received varying replies. Smiling, arms limp at my skin–tight, leather-clad flanks, I finally meet his piercing eyes, and they make me shiver- which I hide.

"Undoubtedly, David Tobias Williams, today I'm most definitely insane."

"Riii-ght." Drawing the word out suspiciously, he nods once. "Okay, um, well if you're not going to beat me anymore, think you can unshackle me?" His tone is polite, cautious, but there is an edging of authority, a quiet command used to being obeyed seeping through. It draws forth equally conflicting responses of defiance then obedience, cause and effect, a twisted post hoc ergo prompter hoc. I feel as though Jareth's essence taunts me by the very lack of his physical presence.

"Unshackle you?" I say, crossing my arms and thrusting one leg out rakishly. "And why, pray tell, should I do that?"

"Because my arms are going numb and I'd like to have our conversation in relative comfort."

"Our _conversation_?" Well isn't he just the little Goblin King taking over my castle!

"Whoever you are–and you still haven't told me your name–I have a funny feeling we have a lot to talk about and I'd like to start before my nerves are permanently damaged." To emphasize, he shakes the cuffs encircling his wrists causing the chains to rattle. I consider his request...why not release him? Not like he can go anywhere. I yanked his gullible, compliant ass through the Veil, and until I push him back through he's mine. Unless...hmmm...now there's an idea...

"Alright." With an easy shrug and a twist of my right hand and wrist, I manifest a crystal and toss it at him. It hits him dead center sternum; he yelps then groans after crumpling onto the floor in a tangled, bloody heap. And unfortunately for David, the wounds I dealt were mainly without magic. I would've offered to heal him, but since my magic is illusionary it wouldn't really heal him, so I didn't bother to say anything. (My reticence did nothing to assuage the strange nagging lingering in the center of my chest, a heaviness I vaguely remember experiencing many years ago before Jareth's betrayal which eased at the thought of fixing him-still, it seemed silly to offer a thing non–existent).

"That _really_ hurt," he says, pushes up to all fours and rocks back to sit on his heels. "Thanks for padding the floor."

"You're welcome." I deadpan. He glares up, sweeping his blood–matted hair out of his face. Drying blood stains his expensive looking shirt; I don't remember ever seeing such a streamlined style before.

"You going to offer me a sonic wash?" My silence and blank expression must clue him in that I have no idea what the hell he's talking about.

"A hot, reconstituted meal?" My brows arch.

"An auto–flight home?" Now my mouth drops open a teensy bit. _What the hell is an auto flight?_

"Fuck." Head drooping, hands braced on his upper thighs, he looks back up with defeated eyes. "How about giving me a hand up?" Now _that_ I understand, and I suppose I owe him at least help to his feet for kidnapping him, beating and nearly killing him.

"I can do that," I say, stretching my right arm down to him, allowing his sweaty, bloody hand to wrap around my gloved one in a secure grip before I yank him upright to his feet until he regains his balance.

"You got a wash closet in this," his head swivels around, "castle?"

"After a fashion, follow me." I lead him from the throne room, down the hall, and point out a single door. You're probably thinking the same thing I did when I first figured out the castle had bathrooms (to my relief). Apparently Jareth had similar needs, and since my magic isn't real, I can make myself look _clean and refreshed_, but I'm really not. It's an illusion, hence the need for actual bathrooms and food which replenishes with some other type of magic (which I've yet to figure out).

"Five minutes," I tell him and conjure a hovering antique clock. His huff and scowl reminds me of Toby's boyish pout, and a fluttering pang grips my heart.

"Generous aren't you?"

I slam my palm to the door as he opens it causing it to jam shut; startled, he looks over his shoulder at me. Barely keeping my temper in check, I say, "You cannot fathom the depth of my generosity...five minutes. Find your way back to my throne room or suffer the consequences."

His Adam's apple bobs conspicuously as he swallows and his lips tightened; I suspect he wants to retort but only nods wordlessly. Without waiting for further understanding from him, I pivot and storm off, certain my command will be obeyed. And I'm correct. David arrives in my throne room, hovering clock trailing him, as the last of his time expires. Lounging on my throne, I watch him through half-closed eyes, purposely attempting to unnerve him. I can't quite tell if it's working since he appears to be wary but not without backbone. Overall his appearance is improved yet not pristine.

"Tell me, David Tobias Williams," I say and he straightens, faces me, "do you know of a Tobias Christian Williams?" He blinks, looking astounded.

"Of course, he's my namesake."

"Your namesake?" I shift, sit upright until my boot soles hit the floor.

"My middle name came from my great-great-great grandfather, Tobias Christian Williams. My father always told me my uncle Jareth suggested it."

"Uncle _Jareth_?" I say, practically spitting his name. How is this possible? "Is he your father's brother?"

"Yes." David nods. "Half-brother really, my father said they didn't grow up together, said he found out he had a brother during college."

"The bastard!" The leather impact of my glove echoes in the room after I smack the arm of my throne. My outburst made David jump slightly, though I can tell he's trying to hide his reaction.

"Who _are_ you?" he asks, wavering between stepping closer and backing away. I solve his dilemma when I stand and slink from my dais, sleek leathers and flowing silks.

"Me?" I grin, placing myself before him and tilt my head. The brave boy stands his ground as I reach up and cup his cheek. "Why, David, I'm you're great-great-great Aunt Sarah."

"Wh-?" Face blanching, he stumbles back and raises his hands in warding.

"Don't be afraid, my boy, I would never hurt family." _I think._ I hold out my hands to him, beseeching.

"My God...your disappearance..."

"Yes?"

"It's been a family mystery for almost two hundred years!"

"Well here I am." My hands flutter up my sides, caressing my flanks while my long hair drapes forward to brush my bare cleavage. The shiver of it sparks through me. "And you're going to help me, nephew."

"I am?" he asks, frowning and looking at me askew. His eyes dart from me to the room and back.

"Oh _yes_!" I leap forward and trap his lithe physique between me and the stone wall, my arms barring either side of his head. Leaning in close, I whisper harshly, "You're going to help me or else you'll be my permanent guest in this nowhere castle."

David's pupils dilate and I can hear his gulp, feel his warm breath as his exhales through his nose, nostrils flaring.

"Understood?" I ask. Shaky, he nods.

"What do you want?" he whispers, his voice trickling off at the end.

"I want what all good girls want." Patting his cheek, I smile. "I want my freedom."

**.**

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><p><strong>Lady Augustin: <strong>Thanks! This chapter should sort out who David is, glad I could keep you guessing and entertained. Sorry it took so long.

**HachimansKitsune: **LOL, gotca! Though you've now received a few spoilers...hehe...glad I surprised you.

**Bowie'sMistress: **Yes he has and no it's not fair, but it'll be explained. He has also managed to attached himself to Sarah's family. Gotten over Sarah? Maybe...maybe not...

**Roronoa Emi: **Not exactly...as you now know. As for David as bait? Or is he a switch?

**compa16: **Sarah is really messed up, but can you blame her? Thanks! I won my first year of NaNo but it pulped my brain and my fanfic for the last couple of months. Thanks!

**mynagoldenwings: **LOL! Surprise!

**Shenlong Girl: **Nope, didn't see it coming...and there's more on the way.

**mermaidmiranda: **yes...yes he is...muhahahaha! Sorry I took so long.

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **Cat got your tongue? LOL!

**moira hawthorne: **Nope...not it...

**futrCSI1490: **LOL! Surprise! Oh yeah the coaster is just starting. Sarah does have some investigating and you're right, she's not going to like it.

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><p><strong>AN: So sorry it took me so long to update. My life was taken over my NaNo, which I won my first year in 25 days! But it muddled up all my writing so bad I'm just now really getting back on track. It also allowed me to meet some cool writers, and got me motivated to submit two short stories to magazines, and published a third at Amazon through Kindle. "Downgrade" by H.G. Mewis. My big fic "Dreams of the Queen" also got approved by Project Fiction . org for the good fiction list two weeks ago, so I'm super excited about that! It's been a busy two months and I'm glad to be getting back into my groove. And glad to be writing fanfic and original fiction. I even have another original full length novel idea which I've started. So many projects!**

**Merry Christmas!  
><strong>

**Enjoy!**

**Jinx**

**:o)**


	6. The Road to Humanity

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**.**

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><p><strong>The Road to Humanity<strong>

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><p><strong>.<strong>

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"So I just say those words and I'm back home? Just like that?" My nephew is suspicious; I can hear it in his voice, see it in his narrowed eyes, his blanched face.

"Of course," I say, trying to sound reassuring. "But you must say the words exactly as I've told them to you. No deviations." Oops, that last bit came off a bit threatening. So much for earning his trust, but then I suppose I'd already lost any chance of earning it when I abducted him. Nevermind beating and nearly molesting him against the wall.

"Then I'll be free of this place?"

"You have my word." There now, I _know_ that sounded convincing. I even placed my hand flush to my chest and bowed a little, trying to be gallant. David chewed his lip as he considered my offer, wheels visibly churning as he weighed his severely limited options. Obviously an intelligent, young man, I knew _he knew_ I wove a trap, but he also realized I held all playing chips except one.

"What happens if I miss a word or phrase it wrong?"

Ah, the little sneak. I manifest my swagger stick and swat it lazily against my thigh, again and again. The sound of stinging leather on leather soothed my nerves, and instantly, his eyes were drawn to the action, his pupils dilating. Excellent, men are so easily swayed by hints of violence; I wonder exactly what my striking awoke within him?

"You really don't want to do that, David. There are numerous wrongs turns between here and there." I step back into his personal space, forcing him to stagger away until he's flush to the wall again; really too bad about the lack of trust. Twisting my free hand, I conjure a crystal filled with an image of the mists surrounding the castle and balance it on the tips of my fingers.

"If you were to get lost in the mists," his eyes linger on the crystal, "I might not be able to find you again, my poor nephew," I say in my best fake, sympathy voice as I pout.

He gulped. "You're serious." It wasn't a question.

"I can give you the grand tour if you like."

Head shaking frantically, he answers, "Ah no, I'll say it."

"Good boy." I pat his cheek, ignoring his flinch. So close now, so close to being able to hunt the bastard down; I didn't dare give David space to renege on his agreement. Hovering, I wait for the perfect words to fall from his lips.

"Do you have to stand so close?"

"Just get on with it!" My previous patting hand slides to his neck and sits in a loose curl at the base, not quite choking him but implying the action. Maybe I would hurt family if I don't get what I want. Guess we'll find out.

I feel him shiver, his body pressing my, and his fear liquefies my innards, makes me tingle in all the right spots. It's a delicious sensation! I haven't been next to a real, live person (a real, live man!) since Jareth- and Brain before him. An involuntary moan slips out and I rub myself against him, my hardened nipples grazing my leather with each pass. Then I realize he's looking down at me in horror, stationary, with his arms held almost spread eagle away from me.

"Right then," I say, pulling back a few inches, just enough to separate our bodies. Wow, I really am one critically, fucked- up chick.

"So." He clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably. "I guess I'll just say it."

Readjusting my clothing, I say, "Ready when you are."

David rolls his head until his neck pops, takes a deep breath then says:

"I wish Sarah Williams and I were in my house."

Simple as that the magic of this accursed place whisks us to David's penthouse where I first saw him hours ago. The travel is faster than my teleportation, and cleaner than yanking him through the Veil; it's as if we blinked and the set designers dropped an entirely new home around us complete with aromas and sounds.

I took a chance. I wasn't sure it would work because wishing magic is unpredictable and unstable; it falls somewhere between reality and illusion. While my magic is purely illusionary, meaning if I make a wish it won't work, and the castle's magic is somehow based in reality -also not workable; David falls in between. He's not bound to the castle like I am but he's related to me, and as my relation I suspected he'd have unique talents in the magic department. And sometimes, when a person wants a thing bad enough, like getting back home, wishing magic fills in the gap.

And ta-da! Here we are, standing in his living room encircled by the expensive objects de art I observed through my scrying crystal; and it smells DIVINE. Overwhelmed and still facing David gazing at me in frank amazement, I inhale the scent of the real world. So many smells at once threaten to sterilize my nose: oiled wood, old books, some cooked meat I don't recognize, an odd, mixed, natural scent like pine and plumera, and the very familiar tang of conditioned air. A faint song plays in the background, subtle and easily on the ears yet not soothing to me so used to silence; and the ticking of an antique grandfather clock assaults my ears.

"Oh God..." I whisper, my knees tremble as I'm suddenly light-headed and nauseous. Unable to focus on one thing, the room spins and becomes a blur.

"You okay?" David grips my shoulders and I latch onto his forearms as he lowers me to the floor. Peering up at him crouched over me, I see genuine sympathy in his eyes; I'd forgotten what it looked like, what it felt like. I don't deserve it.

"OH GOD!" It's too much, all too much to absorb at once: the smells, the sounds, and the feel of his plush carpet through my leather gloves as I collapse farther, my fingers digging into the thick fibers. I can't handle the opulence of the real world any more. My head explodes along with my stomach.

"Sarah!" he shouts but I don't realize until later it the first time he's used my given name, the first time anyone real has in almost 200 years.

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><p>.<p>

I wake up in a strange bed, in a room I don't recognize, still dressed in my leathers minus my boots. My head feels stuffed with cactus and I'd torture someone for a glass of water. Hell, right now I'm so miserable I'd probably just torture them. Then I see a fancy cut-glass pitcher of water on the night stand and I cry.

What the hell is wrong with me? I feel like I'm on hormone overload, but I haven't had a menstrual cycle since I was trapped so it couldn't be PMS. As huge tears run down my face, I sit up and reach for the pitcher and pour a glass. Fresh water! It tastes better than I imagined, clean and crisp as it slides over my tongue and down my throat-gulp after gulp between my sobs, and before long I finish the pitcher.

Thirst quenched, I stand for a moment to get my bearings. I must still be in David's home, in another bedroom I didn't see. I admit I'm rather surprised he allowed me to stay after my less than warm welcome for him. He could've tossed me out on my ass while I was unconscious, and there's not a damn thing I could've done to stop him. But then...he doesn't know that.

Automatically my right wrist rotates and a crystal materializes; another small twist and it's a snake (the oldest tricks are the best). So my magic works; that's good. I'm going to need it once I locate Jareth. Speaking of...time to get moving.

Looking around the room, I see my boots, and walk over to put them on before exiting the luxurious bedroom. I have no idea how long I've been asleep, but it's time to get to work because I also don't know how long the wishing magic will last. It might be permanent or temporary, and if so how much time before I zap back to my prison? I just hope I'm here long enough to take Jareth with me.

"Hey, you're up," David says as he sees me tip-toeing down the hall from his vantage point in his kitchen. Delicious smells of cooking wafted to me and I swear I hear the rarefied sound of frying bacon. God, I haven't had bacon in...Well...I guess a couple hundred years. The castle's menu was redundant to say the least.

"You hungry?" he asks with a knowing smirk as I walk up to the bar overlooking the kitchen counter. He must've heard my stomach growl; I think it his neighbors probably heard it.

"Is that...bacon?" Saliva floods my mouth, making it difficult for me to speak.

"Mm-hmm." He nods and pushes the fork around the pan. "It's difficult to get these days, so I suggest you enjoy it."

"Yeah," I say, nodding dumbly as I sit on a bar stool while I watch him cook. No problem there.

"That's what I thought. You haven't had a decent meal in years, have you?"

My eyes track his hand withdrawing ribboned, crispy slices of pork heaven from the frying grease to a plate with two slices of toast and a white, pudding-like square of something which jiggles when he touches it. A few minutes later and that same plate sits in front of me with a steaming mug of coffee-honest-to-God, real coffee and I can't decide whether to smell it, drink it or bathe in it.

"Haven't had coffee in a while?"

"No, the castle didn't know how to make coffee." David's blank stare reminds me of the huge gulf of time and circumstances separating us.

"Nevermind," I say.

"Sorry, it's just a little hard to deal with when you talk about it so casually." I mumble around the fatty goodness dissolving in my mouth then moan; fully distracted by my culinary vacation, I don't realize he's moved to the stool beside me until he speaks.

"I really would like to understand what happened to you, what that place is...was." For a moment I stop chewing and really pay attention to the man who is my family. Now that we're in his home, I see he's older than I assumed, probably closer to middle-aged but rather youthful. I don't know why I suddenly realize this or think it's important, but my gut is jangling on about more than its hunger pangs. I may be fucked-up but I've learned a few things: one is to always trust my gut.

"You really want to know?" I ask while swirling my bacon remnant through its swathe of grease on the plate. David nods emphatically.

"Then tell me one thing."

"What?"

"What the hell is that white crap?" I point to the pudding-like square jiggling away next to my toast. Laughing, David relaxes and leans both elbows on the counter.

"That is reconstituted protein and minerals. It's good for you."

I poke it with one gloved finger. "It looks awful."

He shrugs. "It's low fat, moderate calories, and all the protein, vitamins and minerals of a full meal."

"So you can live off this?" I wrinkle my nose and withdraw my finger, choosing to resume my bacon munching.

"In theory, but hardly anyone does."

"Why not?"

"'Cause it tastes like crap."

I'm stunned for a few seconds; he's joking with me, after what I've done to him. Again I stop chewing and gape at him, but then the moment passes and we're both laughing so hard we're crying. I almost feel like a human being again; too bad it can't last.

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><p><strong>Lady A<strong>**ugustin: **Thanks! Muhahaha! There's an explanation for David's looks which I'll be getting to eventually. Thanks about my other work, I'll feeling good and still loving to writing after 25+ years.

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **Well said, :o)

**futrCSI1490: **I know I am but what are you? LOL! Oh, yes, there's a whole lot of learning coming Sarah's way. Thanks! I'm really excited too!

**Shenlong Girl: **Sort of...now he's back home but things are just warming up. Thanks!

**Bowie's Mistress: **LOL, in a way. And now the dysfunctional aunt is back home. That thought had occurred to me but I agree, not fair.

**HachimansKitsune: **Thanks! Yeah, I knew the 200 year thing would stun everyone, plus Jareth being a part of her family. :o) More bits and pieces are coming!

**pastelsummer: **Well then I'm honored to have made you change your mind over this fic. Usually Dark Sarah/Jareth tend to just be abusive but I like even my villains to have some character and there to be a plot with the porn. Glad you're enjoying it!

**moira hawthorne: **Thanks! It's just getting going too.

**eidabella: **Lucky you! I was finishing this chapter today. Glad you've changed your mind about Dark S/J over my fic. It's always fun to have interesting characters who aren't black and white. Glad that you love it!

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><p><strong>AN:** **I've been wanted to get this chapter out and today I was really motivated. It's obviously a pivotal chapter and things are really starting to heat up. I can honestly say Jareth won't be appearing for awhile, but lots of things for Sarah to learn before she confronts Jareth.** **Besides, I promise when J/S finally meet it'll be worth it. 'Falling' is really intriguing me lately and I need to work on 'Concern' which I've been neglecting. I've also got ch. 10 of my orig. 'Dreams of the Queen' up yesterday and I'm starting work on another sci-fi.**

**I've also got my dr's appt. tomorrow for my spine-fingers crossed for good news since I'm nervous how it'll effect my job. Thanks for reading!**

**Enjoy!**

**Jinx**

**:o)  
><strong>


	7. Worth a Thousand Words

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**.**

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><p><strong>Worth a Thousand Words<strong>

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><p><strong>.<strong>

**.**

David's face held that universal, timeless stare of bemused disbelief; the type of expression a person wears when they're holding back expletives because they're too stunned to speak. I watch his Adam's apple bob several times and the jaw muscles below his ear bunch and twist, the light casting shadows on his sharp features. His mixed emotions are palpable, even to one so disconnected as I. Why the awkward silence? Isn't it obvious?

"_That's_ how you came to be trapped in that strange castle?" he asks, finally finding his voice.

"More or less." I had just finished the tale of my sordid dealings with Jareth and his trickery. I may have left out a few of the more ... ahem ... erotic details, but only just. My motive being two-fold: I wanted to warn my nephew of exactly what Jareth is capable of, and-I admit-I wanted to see him squirm, see how much the boy could stomach.

During the telling, he reacted much as I suspected; he was outraged, horrified, disgusted, and yet I sensed a quickening of his pulse during the most intimate portions. I saw how his pupils dilated, his skin flushed and how his knees trembled once he stood to pace in front of me. Oh yes, men are so easily manipulated. I hid my sly smile behind my gloved hand, tracking my nephew's circuits from my comfortable position reclining on his couch. Jareth, you will crumble before _me_ this time.

"You were trapped, all this time," he mutters, "because of what he did?"

"Mm-hmm." I nod and adjust my position, my leather creaking. David rakes his shaky fingers through his tangled hair, stops to glare at me.

"But how is it possible? That was nearly two centuries ago!"

"Did you miss the part where I mentioned he's a powerful sorcerer?" His hand waves off my opinion.

"There must be some mistake."

"There isn't."

"It can't be the same man!"

"It is." I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and conjure a crystal with Jareth's likeness within. "This is your uncle, correct?" David's gasp would've been enough, but he answers in the affirmative, shoulders sinking. I almost feel bad destroying his last illusion.

"It's just not possible," he whispers, frowning, his brows deeply furrowing.

"And know how fantastical it sounds..." The look he gives silences me; I vanish the crystal and lean back against the couch. Fair enough, the man needs time to get his head around this new reality. I've been there; I get it. Several minutes pass before David speaks again, this time with a renewed vigor after he dashes to a cabinet, rummages and pulls out a clear, flat square. It looks sort of like a resin paperweight from where I'm sitting.

"If what you say is true, if Jareth has been around since you were eighteen, then apparently he's attached himself to our family for some reason, correct?"

"A fair assumption," I answer cautiously, uncertain of what David's implying. He walks back to sit next to me, and I see the resin square has what appears to be a simple operating button on one narrow side. What is this odd thing?

"Well," he grins, "I'm thinking he should be scattered throughout our generational family album, not just as Uncle Jareth, right? Surely there's something. The man couldn't exist this long without anyone figuring it out."

"Perhaps, but I do believe you're underestimating his shrewdness."

David presses a finger to the flat button which lights up and causes the block to activate. Images of people and places appear on the larger flat surface and I watch in awe as skims one finger to turn over the photos as if it were a physical flip book. The images zip by and I'm astounded. So many faces, my brain starts to overload with the stunning technology.

"Do you mind not drooling on my Pic-Square?" he says without looking up from his task. Apparently I'm a bit obvious in my admiration of his gadget. It makes me wonder what other bits of wondrous technology I've missed. I'm sure it's far more than I can ever list. The images continue to fly by; how can he focus on the smears of colors? I'm dizzy just looking at it, and concentrating makes me what to vomit my first bacon in several lifetimes ... hey, what a minute...

"He's not here, at least not before meeting my dad." He looks over to me. "So I don't kn... are you okay? Sarah?" I feel his hand grip my shoulder as I slump into him. My hand covers the album, blocking the back glow from the colors.

"It's ... glamoured," I manage to say between waves of nausea welling up to the back of my throat. So close, the influence of Jareth's magic pollutes my senses, twists through my body like a screwdriver. And I can't decide if I hate it or love it. It's always held a tang which drew me, and now, being able to taste and manipulate magic unlike before, it's a heady experience.

"It's what?"

"Don't ... move..." I pour my awareness into my hand lying on the dull-edged album. I know I can dissolve this glamour with little effort; it's the physical symptoms which are distracting. Jareth's residue cloys my brain, and part of me cries to dissolve within it, howls in glee when his magic touches me.

Resisting temptation, I push my magic down my arm-sparking heat along my nerves and muscles-and it exits my hand to transfer into the album held so steadily by David. A flash of light; the faint smell of ozone wafts in the air, and it's done. Instantly I feel at liberty, Jareth's magic no longer tainting the area, holding me prisoner with its enticement.

"Look again," I say, shoving myself off of David's shoulder. He's stunned once more, and I wonder if he'll ever stop looking at me like that. Can't he see past the light show and see me? But he complies and flips through the technological marvel. It doesn't take long.

"Damn ... you're right." David shifts the square of pictures so I may see, and there he is, over and over through the decades since my disappearance. Jareth standing next to a teenaged Toby, his arm draped protectively over my brother's shoulders; Jareth posed next to relatives unknown to me-David says they're Toby's children grown-up; Jareth playing with their children and their children's children; and finally Jareth as David knows him-his uncle. In each portrayal, Jareth's clothing and hairstyle change to reflect the current style, but his face remains the perfect mein of my memory-ageless in his vicious beauty.

"He hid his true self with magic, so each generation of our family would know him as someone different," I say. "Brilliant, frightening..."

"It was always him?" David sounds incredulous, even as the evidence fills his vision, and he blinks repeatedly as if to wash it away. I know the feeling; my first decade in the castle I likely looked as gaping as he does now.

"Always."

"But ... why?" Pained eyes so similar to Jareth's in color, but in no way else, bore into mine; I'm speechless. I really have to answer for him. Oh, I have speculations and wild guesses. I've spent most of my existence obsessing over Jareth, but to truly know his mind, his motives? I sigh and shrug.

"Power," David's brows arch, "is my best guess."

"Power? From us? How?"

"That, well, I'm not so sure about." Again, I suppose I could tell him my guesses, but I really don't have any idea how. From all I know of magic, he should be powerless; hell, he should be mortal and dead. But obviously that's not true. Somehow he figured out a way to subvert natural laws, I think; I don't know. God, it's makes my head hurt.

The silence between us thickens, and I realize David flipped through the album until he found a particular image, his fingers caressing the happy faces emanating from the plastic-a woman and a young girl with platinum blond hair. I lean close, feel his so very human warmth radiating into my leathery armor.

"Who are they?" He doesn't answer right away; he sucks his lips in, bites the lower one and exhales in a rush.

Keeping his eyes on the ladies and his finger next to their faces, he says, "My family."

"Oh." And what can I say because even I understand there's more he's not telling me. After waiting longer than I thought my patience could last, he speaks again.

"They died about five years ago..." I can hear his despair and it tugs at me, makes me feel strangely.

I ask the expected question, "how?" It makes me feel as close to a human being as I've felt in lifetimes.

He gulps and I can tell he's reliving memories. "Auto-flight accident."

"Auto-flight?" I still don't know what an auto-flight is, but I'm starting to catch a clue.

"It lost power, fell off the guidance grid and crash landed over 500 feet into a lake." His hands clenched until his knuckles blanched; his jaw muscles spasmed again and I hear his teeth grind. "They said it was a billion to one accident; they said the odds of all the safety features failing at once were astronomical. By the time they recovered their bodies..."

"I understand." I cover his hand on the image with mine, hoping he'd spare me those details. For once I don't want to be morbid; strange that I don't wish to know. Fingers twitching and spreading, David accepts my gloved fingers in between his and squeezes. It feels ... _good_.

"My princess, Becca, she was only five, and Elina was my heart."

"I ... I'm sorry." Tongue tangled, I awkwardly try to comfort him then think how odd that is when I wanted to harm him a short time ago, when I thought him Jareth. How quickly things change when family is involved. When family is involved ... _family _... I have to know.

"David," I clear my throat causing him to jump slightly, "what about the rest of my ... um ... our family?" Including the mysterious Uncle Jareth, I add to myself. Now a sob escapes and he shifts his back towards me.

"David?"

"It's too awful."

I lay my hand on his shoulder, and feel more of his comforting warmth seep through his silky shirt into my leather. The urge to strip off my gloves and run my hands over him zaps me, settles in my groin. _Oh God_ ... what is it about him that makes me want to connect so badly? It can't just be his maleness or family blood, can it? Has being without so long damaged me so badly?

"Tell me."

"Sarah," he says my name in a gasping whisper without turning around. "There was a fire last year; during our family holiday dinner ... everyone died ... everyone except me and my uncle. We were stuck at a business meeting which ran late."

"A fire?" That seemed crazy. Two hundred years and such tragedies still happened? Hadn't fire prevention made such things obsolete? And a business meeting? Curious to ask what sort of business Jareth and he ran together, nevertheless it got relegated for later questions.

"I know." He glanced over his shoulder and the tear tracks were fresh on his cheeks. "Seems improbable, doesn't it?"

"That's one word for it."

"Official word was a malfunction in the fire system and a short in the wiring, but the fiber optic coated wiring is supposed to be impervious to shorts. Everyone I hired to investigate never found another explanation."

"But you always suspected something else, didn't you?"

He turned fully to face me. "I could never settle with losing so many loved ones in so short a time. My uncle and I are the last of my family; I suppose that's the main reason why I accepted you so easily."

"I ... had wondered about that." I couldn't meet his gaze. "After the way I treated you at first."

"Family is important, and things between my uncle and I haven't been the same since their deaths."

"What do mean?"

"At first I thought he was grieving like me, but now," he stared, wide-eyed and bit his lip again, "with you reappearing like this, I think he's sequestered himself for a reason."

I frown, trying to comprehend all the information he's sharing. I feel like there's more between the lines, but I'm not sure of what the lines are. He sets the album on the coffee table and grabs my hands, earnest.

"Sarah, my uncle, assuming he truly is, stopped participating in the family business after their deaths and locked himself away at his ranch property. I haven't seen him since the funerals nearly a year ago."

"So you don't know what he's been up to," I state with a grin, pieces falling into place. David smiles a little, incongruous to the watery sheen in his eyes.

"Exactly, and I think it's time we pay dear old Uncle Jareth a surprise visit, don't you?"

"I'd love nothing better." I growl happily and clash his hands tight as my heart leaps joyfully. At last, it sings, at last my revenge!

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><p><strong>futrCIS1492: <strong>lol, yeah my inner pre-teen came out there for a sec. About the wish: yeah on one hand I agree it did seem too easy, and yet sometimes making things too complicated doesn't make for a better story. I don't mind easy solutions as long as they're believable. And since the wish-magic falls inside the possible of the story canon, I went with it. No need to over complicate things. I'd imagine I'd freak out too if I'd been separated from the real world for so long. Glad you enjoyed!

**PhoenixBlade: **Ewww, to live entirely without bacon (and to eat steamed, ick) would be a sin. I don't eat a lot of it but I do enjoy it! It's like popcorn; when you smell it you just have to eat some even if you're not hungry. As for J and S *boinking*...I will say this. There WILL BE BOINKING. 'Nuff said.

**moira hawthorne: **LOL, yeah, I just had to lightened it up with the white crap part. Glad you liked! And David, I hope this chapter helped explain why he's accepted her so quickly, though it brings up more questions.

**Buffy: **The smells: it's not as if the castle had no smells, just that they were based on her ability to recreate. The stronger your imagination/magic the more realistic the effect. But it's still not the same as experiencing reality and she always knows it's not real this time as opposed to her run through the Laby which she didn't know wasn't 'real'. As for j/s or s/d ... well, that would be tell, wouldn't it? Glad you're loving it!

**eidabella:** Thanks! I know, first person always holds out on the some of the characters. I'd say Jareth will be here if not next chapter then the one after. It depends on how it works out. I've got it in my head, but that J, he loves to throw curve balls you know.

**Shenlong Girl: **David is very sweet and missing family as this chapter explained. Glad you're enjoying it!

**cdrag: **Glad you liked it! I wanted it to be lighter than the previous and it ended up funnier than I expected. This chapter helped explain why David is so accepting of Sarah so quickly. Thanks for the compliment! Writing about evil characters is always fun, but then I believe then no character is truly all good or all evil, but shades of gray. They all have personal motivations and reasons why they do what they do, feel what they feel, even if they're wrong. Once you get inside their head/emotions and explain the why's/how's it's easier for a reader to connect with any character and then the 'evil' ones are quite so evil any more and 'heros' maybe not so likable.

**Lady Augustin: **You're welcome! Sarah is back! And finding some answers already. The history of Sarah's family started to be revealed in this chapter. As for Sarah and David and Jareth...muhahahahaha!

**Bowie's Mistress: Y**es she is and yes she was. At least she realizes it. But she's freaky; can you blame her? Glad you're enjoying!

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><p><strong>AN: **I wanted to update this, and 'Falling', sooner but life had other plans. Last month I suffered two herniated discs in my lumbar spine. I'm better now, but was in tremedous pain for several weeks. It's ironic. I was mostly lying around on my back (which you'd think would be condusive to writing) however when you're feeling like dog crap your brain really isn't all that creative. Therefore, I've fallen behind on my fanfic a bit. When I did feel like writing, I focused on my original fiction because I've got a plan to keep self publishing and selling, writing, pubing, selling, etc. As much as I like writing fanfic, (and I really do) it's not a money maker and original fiction can be a long term cash cow if you keep at it.

BUT! I'm feeling great! Back to almost normal, 99% pain free. Doc says it's a wear and tear work and age injury (major suckage) and fortunately I'm in better condition than most people my age so I bounced back quick, especially after I started rehabing myself with core exercises, etc. Helps that I know lots about medicine and such. My follow up appt, my doc joked that I didn't need him, that I was cured. So it's a life time of low impact and major core exercises until I do to avoid reinjury. Thank goodness I pretty much do that already, just have to ramp it up.

I've also got ch 12 of 'Dreams of the Queen' on fiction press for those interested. Read while you can (though it's a first draft) once I finish this summer? it's coming down for pubbing.

**And comments/reviews are always appreciated (especially chocolated coated ones)**

**Enjoy!**

**Jinx**

**:o)**


	8. Meet and Greet

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><p><strong>Meet and Greet<strong>

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We're leaving his apartment.

And I panic because I suddenly realize I'm going to face a world which left me behind, a world which I thought might've missed me . Who am I kidding; this brave, new world doesn't care about me any more than I care about it. I've only ever wanted one thing, had one goal: Jareth.

"You okay?" I hear David ask through the cacophony of blood pounding in my ears, smashing in my brain. Struggling for a deep breath, I exert my willpower over my panting. Damn him, damn the Goblin King to the seven levels of hell!

"I'm fine," I say through grit teeth, offering a smile which I'm sure is more of a sneer; David flinches. "How far is his ranch?"

"Uh, not far by auto-flight, we'll be there in less than an hour."

"Good."

He grabs my arm; I relish his nails digging into my muscle, it clears my mind. "You sure you're ready for this?"

"Do I need to answer that?" I can feel my magic crackle in my eyes, blaze from my skin, and David releases me, taking a cautious step back with hands upraised.

"Sure, okay ... just asking."

_We're leaving his apartment. _

I take my first step out his front door and into the foyer I first spied in my scrying crystal; it's more luxurious in person. The scent of the fresh cut blooms hangs in the air, filling my lungs, reminding me of everything good and pure torn from me. I always did love the smell of hyacinth; I'd forgotten how sweet its scent. Some sharp emotion incises my heart, and I mentally shake it off as I walk past the over-sized bouquet, refusing to turn my head to prolong the encounter. They're just flowers, dammit; I've got more important things to focus on right now.

David leads me to the elevator, and we wait for the car to arrive. At least this is familiar; I remember elevators, always liked them as a kid and thought they were fun to ride. What isn't familiar is his private access to the roof. Once we're inside the car, he gives me a sheepish, lop-sided grin as he presses his thumb to clear panel, and a feminine voice announces our clearance to the roof garage. I don't bother to ask, just cock one brow at him.

He shrugs deeply and blushes. "My family's been rich for a long time and being one of two sole heirs..."

"Yeah." I nod slowly and cross my arms. Exactly how rich is he? The elevator door closes and smoothly accelerates upwards; my knees bend slightly to accommodate. "What sort of business are you in?"

"Virtual and digital communication, we hold the patents on twenty of the top technologies, like the Pic-Square for one," he stated matter-of-factly as if he were ordering a plate of French fries. Did they still have French fries? I wondered, so did my stomach with a gurgle.

"That photo album qualifies as communication?"

"Sarah, these days everything is communication." The elevator doors whooshed opened, and I followed him into a rather banal, small parking garage. Look basically like any normal, twentieth century garage. I guess some things didn't change very much in 200 years, sort of like sharks, why mess with a perfect design? That is until I noticed the vehicles it contained: sleek, low silhouettes, most without wheels, and mainly two or four-seaters.

"These aren't all yours," I spun around as I walked, heel clicks echoing, "Are they?"

"Everyone," he said and I heard the pride in his voice. His back was held a bit more erect, shoulders a tad stiffer. Oh brother, boys and their cars; the more things change, the more they stay the same after all.

"We're taking this one." David approached a midnight blue, iridescent, sharply aerodynamic number, laid his hand on the hood and caressed circles on the paint job. "She's my favorite."

"_Really._" Even my thick sarcasm didn't faze him. Great, hopefully we actually make it to Jareth's ranch instead of dying in a fiery ball off the guidance grid.

Another thumb press of his to a hidden plate on the door, and both gull-wing doors swing upward allowing us entry with a flourish of new leather smell. Yeah, okay, now _that_ was impressively cool. I can see the allure. Awesome cars were always sort of a weak spot for me too. And the gull-wings ... futuristically retro; _I love it_. Already my skin itches to try out the interior. I'm all creaking leather and sinful grace as I slip into the passenger seat and fit my lithe frame into the tight bucket seat (still fantastically retro); it's the next thing best to sex. Fuck, some things really don't go out of style.

"You like it; I can tell." He slides in the driver's seat. I guess my foolish grin gave me away.

"Meh ... it's alright." I shrug.

Laughing, he secures the doors with a click. He's handsome when he smiles. Well, he's handsome anyhow, but especially so with his face brightened. Then a question hits me which I blurt out before I think.

"You're still alone, aren't you?" His hand freezes mid-reach for the steering wheel. "Why didn't you ever remarry?" His hand completing its journey, his fingers strangle the wheel while he remains facing forward. Several breaths strain between us, and I kick myself for being so socially retarded. My only family, maybe my only friend and I've hurt him, unintentionally sure, by my lack of socialization.

"Yes, I am. I could nev..." his voice catches, "could never, after they, you know..."

"I see." He finally looks at me, pain gleaming in his eyes, etched on the furrows of his face, the brightness dulled and chipped away. "I'm sorry I made you..."

"Don't be." He cuts me off, just like he's cutting off the topic. "Let's just get this over with, right?" What else can I say? I sense he wants a showdown as much as I, for reasons I can only imagine. What has Jareth done to him?

"I'm ready," I say, and we share a subtle nod before he presses his thumb to another activation pad; the vehicle starts and I feel my weight increase. A questioning look at him and he says:

"Gravity restraints, you get used to them."

"Ah." I bet I don't. I feel twice my weight, only my arms feel normal if I move them far enough from my body-weird. But soon I'm distracted by him telling the vehicle where he wants it to take us, and its soft hum swells to a rumble which shivers through the seat into my body. It's deliciously real, terribly intense. My thighs clench together, and sensory memory whiplashes me back to the night I sat in Brian's car. My fingers dig furrows into the upholstery as I resist wanting to rub myself to climax. God, will this new, overwhelming desire be my constant companion? Will every real experience either blast me or send me into this haze?

"Sarah?"

"Fine ... fine." I ignore his flash of concern, focus instead on keeping my libido under control. I just don't understand why this is happening. I never felt this raging of hormones during my captivity; my hormones were subject to my command. And Jareth was subject to my will.

I'm so intent upon mastering my body, I hardly feel the roll of the vehicle as it lifts off, shifts, turns and flies from the rooftop parking garage. What does gain my attention is the view of Houston at night from an altitude of several hundred feet. Thrilling, amazing, magnificent: lights of every hue create a jigsaw puzzle of battlements reaching for the night sky; the stars pale in mortification. I've never seen such a skyline, and I gawk as we fly up and over. Hundreds of other vehicles zip through the air, their gleaming shells reflecting the myriad of artificial colors. I could've never imagined my life leading to this reality.

"So this is an auto-flight," I murmur, leaning for a better view out my passenger window. I'm awed, and struggle for something tangible in which to ground myself. I feel the pull of the gravity restraint on the back of my head, not enough to keep it on the seat, but enough to tug. Relieved for a topic, I turn from the window and ask, "How do the restraints work if I can lift my head and arms?"

"At normal velocity they hold at two g's, but if there's an impact or a catastrophic failure it increases up to five g's temporarily."

"And that works?"

"It works."

"Had an accident?"

He smirks, blushing. "I've had my share."

"Well, okay..." I really didn't have anything else to say, and we settle into a comfortable silence. It occurs to me that I don't know what to expect from Jareth, nor do I have any specific plan other than confrontation. Of course, I have tricks and magic plotted, but I know how crafty he is, and I know any plan I create will likely be undone by him upon contact. Which is why I've decided to be adaptable, surprise is my best option, surprise and speed.

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><p><strong>jsjsjsjsj<strong>

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I would've slept if I could have, but I was too keyed up to rest, which made the hour interminable. Instead I pass the time sightseeing from the window and daydreaming of the world lost to me, the pane of glass forever separating us. My hand pressed to the transparent barrier, I watch the geography change from sprawling futuristic city to a more rural landscape.

Apparently some wide open spaces remain in the 21st century, not many from what I can see in the gloom, but a few. I suppose food still needed to be grown and cattle needed to graze. Not everyone ate reconstituted white crap 100% of the time; I certainly wouldn't.

"We'll be there shortly." Glancing over, I see the tenseness of his jaw, the auto-flight information reflected from the transparent windshield in a green glow onto his stoic face.

"You don't have to face him with me. This is my fight."

His eyes flit to mine, hold them for a second then release. "You think I'm about to allow you inside there alone?"

"David..."

"Don't, just don't."

"You have no idea what he's capable of, what he'll do to you." Shifting in my seat, I reach out and touch his arm, afraid for him. He's the last of my family, the remaining silver of my humanity and the thought of him receiving injury clenches my stomach.

"After what you've told me, I've got an inkling, Sarah." His hand is warm over mine as he wraps his fingers around the back of my hand. "It's time for answers," he gives me a sad smile, "for both of us."

Barely able to swallow, I answer, "Alright."

It feels good to have a partner against Jareth this time, and none too soon because we crest an embankment and David's inhalation signals me of our arrival. I turn to look and outside, cutting the night, is the outline of a well-lit property with a large, sleek castle-like structure. Well, once a Goblin King, always a Goblin King. The auto-flight takes us to a landing pad lit up like a night sports stadium. I guess we won't be sneaking up on him either, so much for the advantage of surprise.

"There isn't somewhere private we could land?" I ask. The vehicle is settling on the ground and I feel my normal weight again as the gravity restraints deactivate.

"Not if you want to be inside the security gates." Oh no, no this won't do. I _need_ that edge; I refuse to give it up.

"Sit still," I say, and before he can reply, I manifest a crystal and press it to his forehead. David gasps and tries to jerk back, but my magic holds him firm as it rapidly pulls the required information from his memory. Seconds later, I remove it from him to examine it; he's scowling and shaking and very displeased.

"What the fuck was that?"

"I needed at schematic of the house; this was the most efficient way to get it."

"You could've asked!"

"Would you've agreed?"

"I ... maybe ... I don't know."

"Exactly, now hush; I must concentrate on Jareth's location within." And just that easy I'm able to zoom in on his radiating aura. Either he's not bothering to disguise it here as if he doesn't care who knows, or there's no one else here.

"Does anyone else live here?"

David shakes his head, rubbing his temples. "No, he lives alone, or at least he did a year ago."

"Good." I smirk, showing my teeth. "Wait here." David is cut off mid-protest when I teleport from the vehicle to Jareth's location, using his magical aura as a homing beacon. It pulls me effortlessly inside his estate; I dare not call it a home or a house, far too large and austere for that. It reminds me of a modern version of the castle with its metallic sleekness accented by natural stonework.

Two blinks later and I'm standing in the center of a large room; a typical, overdone fireplace is at one side with wrought iron candle holders scattered and furniture scattered about. It gives the square room a Gothic, gloomy atmosphere. Gee whiz, almost like home. God, did I just think of the castle as home?

The fire pops; a log shifts, tumbles and spits embers behind me. I spin in place looking for Jareth. He could be using the shadows as his cloak, could be watching me stumble around uselessly. I know he's close; I feel his magic twisting my gut like before, lightening in my head. It's distracting me. _Damn you, Jareth_, I won't be played with, not again!

A crystal manifested: I toss it upwards where it explodes against the ceiling and bathes the room in brilliance. A flash of darkness in the corner; I pivot, nothing but the furniture. I blast it apart with another crystal, shards litter the fireplace rug. Wooden toothpicks for a giant positioned for a game of pickup sticks.

"Sarah," he 'tsks' me as if I'm an errant child, "such a temper!" Jareth's voice echoes from everywhere and nowhere; I release rapid fire crystals which destroy more furniture in my haste and rage. The explosions pound my ears, and the magic sizzles my skin.

"Face me, Jareth!"

"Whatever for?" His darkly mocking laugh echoes all around me, followed by another flash in my periphery. I spin to catch it, too slow! How can he be hiding with the furniture reduced to kindling? Mere walls of stone surround us in the midday-ish illumination, paintings and elaborate decorations adorning the vertical structures. But his illusion of invisibility cannot hold forever; I can wait him out. Like a jungle cat, I lower my center of gravity and pace the perimeter.

The slam of a heavy door startles me, and I rotate in place to see David rushing inside the room, flushed and panting. My hand stays its hair trigger, keeping hold of the crystal I aimed in his direction. I'm equally relieved and angry to see him: he's an ally but he's vulnerable.

"Get back to the car!" I shout.

"Sarah, wait, you don't understand!"

"It's dangerous, David!" I shove his questing hands away, anxious to refocus on locating Jareth.

"Why, David, I'm glad you joined us." Jareth's voice purrs beside me, and I stumble back, throwing the crystal which misses and shatters upon the floor as Jareth strikes me with his own spell. The impact stings by chest, and dizziness and nausea overwhelm me.

Precious seconds elapse as I increase the distance from the silhouette of Jareth looming over me; how did he get so close without my sensing him? What sort of spell did he hit me with? Everything is so blurry and my ears are buzzing. Standing upright is suddenly too much effort, and my knees buckle until they strike the stone floor. Lancing pain radiates up my thighs, dulled by the effects of Jareth's magic blanketing my senses.

"Uncle, don't harm her!" David lunges between us, arms outstretched; it's sweet really, I think, my brain rapidly becoming muzzier. A giggle escapes me, and part of me is horrified that I'm not more horrified. Shadowy Jareth stands, arms on his hips, and faces his nephew; I hear the undisguised glee in his voice.

"Why ever would I harm her after all of our efforts?"

_What does he mean?-_is my first thought as my body succumbs to his spell, my spine rubberizes and my body refuses to obey me as it collapses forward onto the floor. My face smashes to the stone, my nose barely missing being broken by the fortunate turn of my head. Then I lose consciousness and remember nothing else for a long time.

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><p><strong>Hachimanskitsune: <strong>LOL, I try not to make them too short, but sometimes the pacing just works out that way. Though there was a lot of good info in that last chapter. This chapter has more info (subtle) and big cliffy! As for squirming...well...but there will be smut. I promise.

**PhoenixBlade: **I did try to get this next chapter out fast. But my other fics our suffering. Still have to get the next chap of 'Falling' going and I've got nothing for 'Concern' ...sigh. As for Jareth's motives...he has them. Sarah's family as a battery...interesting, not quite but interesting.

**eidastoryteller: **Thanks! I do recommend always keep your core strength top notch cause herniated discs hurt, a lot! Glad you enjoyed the last chapter, hope this one was fun too!

**Shenlong Girl: **Yep, we're going now! The ranch concept was a big reason way I wanted this set in Texas, lots of open space and privacy (seriously, tons of it still and will probably be lots left in 200 yrs, Montana would be good too except the whole too much space vs no cities thing)

**pastelsummer: **Yum! Brownies are my fave! Thanks! As for the deaths in Sarah's family...I will say not all were natural deaths. Muhahahahaha!

**Bowie's Mistress: **Thanks! It's getting into the serious plot now. His attachment to Sarah's family will be explained.

**xxxvampirebunnyxxx: **Awesome, glad you loved Queen and sorry you got sucked into King before you realized it wasn't finished. Though I do like completed fics, I'm not opposed to reading ongoing fics. Have faith that I'll be finishing this. I've never left any fic unfinished before. Lucky for you I was 90% done with this chapter today. LOL! So you get an update quick. Thanks again and enjoy!

**futrCSI1490: **oh yeah, things are definitely getting interesting...as for turning on his uncle...well... This chapter may have you rethinking that.

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><p><strong>AN: So I'm really into this fic right now which leaves "Falling" a bit on the wayside. Thought I'll be getting back to it soon. Mainly 'Falling' is at a point which I'm undecided exactly how I want to proceed, so I'm in the delay game until my muse answers me. But she will. Meanwhile this fic is rocking and I also started another original fic (medieval fantasy) Woke up with fresh dream two days and an idea stuck in my head, well into 1000 words already for that. My genre fics are all over the place, lol! **

**As usual, my fiction press link is on my profile for anyone interested in reading my original work. Support is always appreciated! I'm glad everyone is enjoying the direction of this fic. I was nervous about the subtle sci-fi element since it hadn't really been done often in this fandom. But I feel like it's working, especially since I'm trying to keep it from taking over. It's still Sarah's story.**

**Enjoy!**

**Jinx**

**:o)**


	9. Head Over Heels

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><p><strong>Head Over Heels<strong>

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Fingers are on my back; they stroke my bare skin from my shoulders to my buttocks. I lay face down and naked on something soft which smells of fresh hyacinth. The scent reminds me of something but my memory is fuzzy, and it strays just out of reach. The fingers continue to trail over my skin, teasing me and moving lower until they dip between my spread legs. Involuntarily, I arch my hips up and back, questing for more contact with the mysterious fingers.

I hear muffled grunting and realize it's me; the soft material partially covering my face also restricts my voice. Where am I? Why can't I remember how I got here? The fingers probe into my private regions, delicate yet demanding. Disoriented and confused, I somehow remember my runaway libido as it eagerly responds to the stranger's ministrations. I can feel how wet am I, feel it pool and heat, feel it dibble and slide around the fingers' explorations.

"Oh fuck..." I moan in to the softness, writhing my body farther back onto the fingers until my stomach lifts up and I'm able to move my knees underneath to support my weight. As I move my arms to push upwards a second hand flattens on my upper back and pushes my face down. It's then I realize I must be in a bed. I'd feel triumphant at figuring this out except I don't know whose bed I'm in, and really, right now I don't care as long as they don't stop.

The second hand joins the first and now they're both working on my exposed body. Quickly, I give over to the sensations generated as three fingers are worked inside me and pumped while my clit is pinched and roughly rubbed. I add my own frantic backwards thrusting to deepen the penetration, and whoever it is complies by working their fourth finger and thumb inside and shoving with deliberate, rapid force.

"God! Yes ... yes, harder!" I shout as I'm spread wider, my slickened walls pulling the hand inside of me just as it resists it so deliciously; each centimeter gained is a painful pleasure. I haven't felt this alive in years. Sparks of passion jolt through me, each one brings me closer to my release until I hover just on the edge. I'm so hot, sweat beads over my skin, runs down my back and collects at my neck. My hair is moist and still I'm dancing on the razor.

"P-please, _please_!" I squirm frantically.

A body suddenly presses fully against my back, pushes me into the bed, and I can tell - unequivocally - the person is male because his naked body is flush to mine and the touch whites out my brain. The heat and firmness of his nudity leaves no doubt of his own state as he lays his full weight upon me, hands adjusting, reaching around to continue their business. I accommodate him, hoping he'll finish what he's started.

The feel of the sheets rasping on my nipples is torturous as I twist and turn beneath him, striving for that last glimpse of nirvana. His restrictive, masculine weight tugs at some memory, and I feel a fresh gush of moisture between my legs with a simultaneous wave of nausea. He says in my ear, his voice hardly a breath through my sweat-dampened hair:

"I've missed you, my precious thing."

Then I'm coming, harder and more viciously than I've ever climaxed in my fucked up life. I spasm so hard my back arches, throwing my head upwards. Jareth draws out my orgasm with expert precision and I'm lost to the world, driven by my lust. At some point in my fog, he plunges himself to the hilt within me and my pleasure starts anew.

I'm screaming. My throat frays and I can hear my voice crack, but it's all distant as I'm swamped by Jareth's growls in my ear. His fingers claw into my shoulders from underneath my chest for leverage. He's wrapped around me from behind and fucking me so hard it feels as if I'll be split apart. And I've never come so hard in my life, so many times in a row, even with my illusions. It just keeps going and going until I'm limp and near unconscious. I suppose I could call this rape since I never actually consented, but it feels so damn good.

Just before I do lose consciousness, I feel Jareth swell inside of me, hardening a tad more and his teeth sink into my shoulder near the base of my neck. The pain sends me over the cliff one last time and I hear his own grunts of completion timed with his massive thrusts. I'm too exhausted to scream; my voice has long since fled. But I whimper and shudder as my last orgasm squeezes his manhood buried deep inside. As I drift rapidly into slumber, I feel him withdraw leaving me oddly weightless and bereft; the chill in the air is acutely noticeable and my skin prickles.

"Rest, precious thing," he says, brushing my hair from my face. I blink, bleary-eyed, and try to speak but he shushes me. He's terribly beautiful, surpassing all my remembrances, and my throat closes up at the tender expression on his face. This can't be true. He betrayed me, tricked me, trapped me!

He leans down further, the candle light of the bedroom making his pale skin glow, and kisses my forehead. "I'll come back for you later."

"Mmm-hmm..." I mumble and try to move.

"Ah-ah, what did I say?" He pats my head gently. "Sleep now, talk later." Jareth smiles at me and I want to cry, refuse to do so with him as my witness. Eyelids soo heavy, I stop fighting them and vaguely wonder if he's spelled me. Then again he wouldn't need to after our activities. I fall asleep listening to him move around and eventually leave the room with a softly shut door; my last thought is a mixture of confusion and utter bliss.

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When next I wake, I feel sore and sated - an interesting combination and one I don't remember ever experiencing. Even the first time Jareth took me, it wasn't like this. I woke sore but had no feeling of ... contentment? No other word seems appropriate as I float on my hormonally induced satisfaction. At least I hope it's merely from hormones; what if he cast more magic over me? I sit up with a jerk at that realization, my head swimming and my stomach roiling.

"Sleep well, precious thing?" Jareth's sultry baritone washes over me as I'm doubled over clutching my middle. Swallowing thickly, I glance up and see the man of my dreams and nightmares, my pleasure and torment; he's sitting, fully dressed, at a table laden with food. Saliva fills my mouth when my eyes connect the view with the appetizing smells, and my nausea dissipates.

"Jareth?"

"Yes?" He cocks his head at me, smiles lazily, and leans back into his chair.

"It's really you?"

"In the flesh," he smirks, "though I wonder at your need to question that after yesterday."

"Yesterday?"

"You've been asleep for nearly twenty-four hours, Sarah."

"Oh." That's great, some comeback. Where's my desire for ass-kickery? Apparently it fled along with my ability to stand because my legs feel like my bones have liquefied, and I'm a bit uncertain about getting out of bed. Shifting my position, the sheet falls and reveals my nudity and Jareth growls. My eyes meet his across the room: makes my skin chill, my nipples harden and my center heat up and fluids seep onto my inner thighs.

"Stop it," I whisper.

"What?" His voice is husky and low and even at the distant of several feet I can see him growing aroused.

"Whatever magic you're doing to me," I say in a stronger voice, my chin jutting defiantly.

He laughs, throwing his head back, his long, platinum hair streaming over his silken clad shoulders. "I? Oh, precious thing, I'm not casting any magic on you." The sexy creak of his leather trousers inform me before my eyes do that he's standing and moving toward me in that cat-like slink of his.

"I don't believe you."

"Oh, you don't?" Now he's mocking me and my anger burns hotter than my passion. Before he can reach the bed, I've scooted to the opposite edge and wrapped the sheet tight around me. Shrugging with a casual frown, he sits on the other edge and leans on one elbow.

"My chambers currently have a dampening spell on them. Neither of us can perform any magic while we're here." At my perplexed expression he adds with a hand flourish. "Go on, try it."

"Alright," I rely snidely and twist my hand and wrist to manifest ... nothing. "_What the hell is this_?"

"I told you, no magic in this room." He sits up and gestures to the food. "You must be hungr-"

"And I bet the door's unlocked too!"

"By all means," he indulges me with a smile and resumes his reclined position, "try it as well."

I jerk the sheet free of the bed with several vicious yanks causing Jareth to tip precariously near his edge, but he only chuckles and readjusts as I wear my toga across the room, grab the wrought iron handle and wrench the door open with a gasp. His light chuckle deepens to a full-throated laugh; my face burns with humiliation. Surely there must be a trick, a barrier trapping me inside. Forcing myself to ignore him, I ease one hand past the door jamb then the other, finally my entire body is standing in the hallway and I feel fine.

Jareth's laughing has settled down and I turn to see him intently watching me. Laugh at me; trick me; seduce me; my rage boils back up and, with a snarl, I manifest a crystal and fling at him one-handedly. It hits the dampening barrier at the door, freezes, hangs, and dissolves into mist.

"Will you never listen to me?" Jareth stands from the bed, strolls to the door, and leans one shoulder on his side of the frame. "No. Magic. In. Here."

Cobra fast, his hand flashes out, grips my still upraised arm and yanks me back inside the room; I nearly lose my hold on the sheet as I trip over its length. He wraps both arms around me, keeping me snug to his chest and the scent of his leather, musk and spicy magic makes me light-headed. Fighting to keep from swooning, I tilt my head back and meet his icy blue gaze.

"What do want, Jareth?" I say, sneering.

"I've gone to considerable trouble arranging things, Sarah, the least you could do is be civil."

"Arranging things?" I struggle in his embrace, trying to free myself, but his arms tighten and I give up. "Like trapping me in that awful place? Tricking me into taking your place?"

A frown skitters across his features for a second. "I was desperate at the time; you were my best solution, my only one really."

"I-wh-if that's your idea of an apology, you suck at it."

Eyes narrow and lips thin, Jareth glares down at me. "If I were to apologize would you behave yourself while we talk?"

"Well I don't know." My lips pout, but I can't cross my arms because they're still smashed against his torso. "But it'd be a start." I swear the sound of his teeth grinding echoes in the bedroom.

"Very well, I apologize for my earlier actions." Silence reigns between us as we stare each other down.

"That's it?"

"It's tremendously generous!"

I snort. Jareth releases me so unexpectedly I nearly lose my balance stumbling back, and I see his expression darken. "And to think I looked forward to having you by my side," he mutters as he stomps back to the table.

"What did you say?" I can't help my stunned response as I traipse behind him, head tilted and trailing the silken sheet. I reach out, clutching at his billowing sleeve. "Jareth, what do you mean?"

Spinning, he snaps. "Well I should think it's rather obvious, I pulled you from that horrid prison so you might take your rightful place by my side!"

"I ... wha ... I ..." My mouth gapes like a fish as I become inarticulate. After all, what could I say to that? Hell, I'm not even sure how I feel about Jareth or his admission. As his anger melts, he takes my lax hand and leads me to the table; I'm unresisting.

"Eat, Sarah. We'll talk after."

"Okay." I nod dumbly and stare at the feast, all foods never found at the castle. I gulp; he that remembers too.

**.**

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><p><strong>Buffy: <strong>You're welcome!

**HachimansKitsune: **I know, but at least I started off this chapter with a bang, right?

**Lady Augustin: **You're welcome! Answers are coming, as soon as I figure out how to work it all out, lol!

**PhoenixBlade: **I love writing a love/hate Jareth. Family is important and what are David's motives or Jareth's? Hmm...

**spartichic: **Thanks! Glad to hear wedding plans are coming together. They can get very hectic; I remember, lol! Answers are coming!

**pastelsummer: **Muahahaha! I know I'm a tease and this chapter is just as teasing but fun!

**Bowie's Mistress: **Muahahaha! Maybe... Guess we'll find out...

**futrCSI1490: **I am so evil, but it wouldn't be half as fun to write if I couldn't keep up the twists and turns. Thanks and answers are getting closer!

**eidastoryteller: **Hey, I recognize the name. Yes! Jareth is here and now with a bang this chapter. Wowza!

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><p><strong>AN: Hope ya'll enjoyed this wham-bam chapter! I'm hoping to get the next one out soon and I've finally got an idea of how to proceed for "Falling" so I'm getting going on that again. Also, for those interested, I've been uploading some new Jareth artwork on deviant art (link on my profile). It's my first time drawing him, and he's turning out alright. I also put up a pic of Bowie. My artwork has been bugging me lately and keeping me from writing. I tend to do that, go back and forth. Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter!**

**Enjoy!**

**:o)**

**Jinx  
><strong>


	10. Secrets and Mysteries

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><p><strong>Secrets and Mysteries<strong>

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><p><strong>.<strong>

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Stuffed with rich foods and dressed in luxurious clothes, I stare at the warm, _real_ fire dancing in the hearth. How did my life take such a surreal direction? My disorientation is boundless as I attempt to puzzle my way through my new reality, and I feel Jareth's eyes on my long before he speaks.

He's given me time to adjust before our chat. Allowed me to eat my fill, provided the velvet dress which harkens to medieval times; I wonder at his preferences in this futuristic Aboveground. Is that why he wants me here? Has he tired of feeling out of place, an anachronism? I frown; it couldn't possibly be that simple. Could it?

"Feeling better?" he asks.

I look over my shoulder at the door where he's standing. "Compared to what?"

He smiles wanly and shrugs. "Fair enough." His boots click on the flagstone as he leisurely makes his way to the table, hands tucked at the small of his back. "This must all seem very _jarring_ for you."

"Jarring?" Sardonic laughter slips from me. "You do have a way of diminishing things which you'd rather not face, don't you?" His scowl is his only answer as he sits opposite of me, chair creaking at his royally slouched weight. Perhaps I know him better than I thought.

"I'd hardly call this," he motioned at our cozy situation, "being unwilling to face you."

My fists slamming the table top punctuate my words. "Two hundred years, Jareth!" I'm pleased at his faint flinch. "You trapped me for nearly two hundred fucking years!"

His snarl and lunge startles me, his face a study in twisted aggravation. "Am I to feel pity for you when my own imprisonment lasted hundreds of years longer?"

"W-what?" The rear of my head hits the hard, high-backed chair as Jareth practically crawls over the food remnants at me, his eyes aglow and wrathful.

"Oh yes, dear, put-upon, Sarah. You believe yourself the only one so ill-used? Try existing in that hell for over fourteen hundred years." Our faces inches apart, he growls, then jerks back to fling a wine-filled goblet across the room. Its metallic dissonance clattering against the stone wall bruises my eardrums, and dark liquid is violently sprayed. I'm stunned, both by his display and his confession. Exactly how old is Jareth? What is he?

"Who _are_ you?" The back of his shoulders twitch, he's still facing the wall. "Really," I add softly.

A deep sigh whispers from him and his body seems to sag with the weight of my question. Keeping his back to me, his white, silken shirt caresses his lean frame with each deep breath, he says, "There is soo much you do not understand..."

I stand; the wooden legs of the chair scrape the stone floor. The harsh sound competes with our rapid breathing and the crackling fire. "Then tell me."

A bitter laugh escapes him and I see how he pinches his nose with one hand, head bowed. "I know you, Sarah. I know you've been plotting your revenge against me."

"Jareth..." He spins, faces me; I step back a pace, wary and watching him.

"But what you lack is information to complete your plans." He moves slightly closer with an odd gleam in his eyes. "What if I were to give you that information?"

My eyes narrow. "Why would you do that?"

With a deceptively nonchalant cocking of his head and furrowing of his brow, he answers, "Perhaps I'd like to earn your trust."

"You really expect me to believe that?" I cross my arms over my chest, figuratively as well emotionally defensive.

"You may, of course, choose to believe whatever you wish." He saunters closer and I was torn between confronting and kissing him, all my fears and desires muddled into an overworked heap.

"How very _generous_ of you."

"Defensiveness does not become you, precious thing."

"Don't call me that! I'm not your thing!"

"No," he says in a wistful tone as he moves into my personal space, bringing his hand up to cup the side of my face. I freeze at the soft look in his eyes. "You're not. You're my queen, my Sarah."

A quick inhalation and I hold my breath, gaping at the man, the monster standing before me with a look of adoration beaming down. His bare hand feels warm and callus-free on my skin. All my hormones revolt in opposition to my mind's need for vengeance; while my heart, my forlorn, broken heart, struggles somewhere in the middle. What does he really want from me? Why this? Why now? A frown twists my lips, stresses my brow.

"Shall I tell you my greatest secret? What no one else alive knows?"

Speechless, and more than a bit flabbergasted, I nod. Perhaps if I learn something more of him, I can use it to my advantage.

"Sarah, precious, I was imprisoned much as you were sometime in the year of our Lord 563. I was betrayed and left to rot in that in between place of mists."

"Oh no..."

"She said she loved me, then she tried to steal my abilities, and when she proved unsuccessful, she chose to turn the magic against me, trapping me instead."

"It can't be," I shake my head, "it's just a legend."

A grim smile is returned to me. "All legends are based on a grain of truth. Do you understand now? Do you see?"

"It's not possible..." It couldn't be, but his strangely lit eyes bore truth into my soul as his words confirm my suspicions.

"Oh, it's quite possible. My real name is Merlin."

"Oh God..." My knees buckle and Jareth (for I can't refer to him by any other name) catches me, his arms band about my waist before I can melt to the floor. Instead, he cradles me to his chest, limp and unresisting.

"I see you know your Arthurian legends well, Sarah."

"How can this be?" I look up from my intimate vantage, my flushing cheek presses to his torso while my arms hang at my sides.

"After all you've seen, you can still doubt the existence of the impossible?"

"That's not ... I mean, how can you still be alive?"

"You must have realized your lack of aging whilst in that place?"

"Yes."

"That takes care of most of those years."

"But what of the last two hundred? Why do you look the same as when I last saw you? You should be dead, shouldn't you?"

"Ah," he nods and tightens his embrace, "my magic has strengthened over the centuries. The magic Morgana failed to steal from me."

"So you did keep your magic?" My strength returns incrementally, and I pull away, just enough to create a wall of space between our bodies; his heat lingers through the velvet of my bodice.

"Of course I did, but you've already surmised that." He chuckled at my stupidity; I blush. "My magic has been a part of me long before I was sent to that hell."

"It still doesn't explain why you're still alive and young now."

"So many questions, precious." He reaches for my face again, but I step back. I sense the answer to the question will define everything. He gives me a sort of facial shrug, drops his arm and steps away.

"You said you'd tell me what I want to know."

"Did I now?"

"Don't play with me. I'm tired of your games, Jareth."

His hands come up in mock surrender. "No more games."

A flash of insight hits me, an answer buried within. "Your being alive has to do with my family doesn't it?"

"So quick, my Sarah." His feral smirk chills me to my soul. What has he done?

"David ... you're really his uncle?"

Jareth's full-throated laughter echoes in the bedroom, chilling me. "Don't be ridiculous! Of course I'm not his uncle."

"You're not?" Relief floods through me, followed quickly by dread.

"No, I'm his father."

Words fail me for several seconds. Really, what can I say? I stand like a fish as he waits.

Finally I say, "I want to speak to David."

Jareth bows his head. "But of course you do. Shall we?" He motions towards the door, offering me his elbow, and I have little choice but to allow him to escort me outside the safety of the magic-dampened room.

**.**

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><p><strong>Buffy: <strong>LOL, yeah, a lot of wowsa happened last chapter. And a lot of mega mind fucking. Which way should Sarah jump? What is Jareth's game? I guess we'll find out.

** eidastoryteller: **You don't buy it? Really? Hmm...interesting. I wonder if Sarah does? Thanks! Glad you're enjoying it!

**Lady Augustin: **LOL, Thanks! I knew people would love the last chapter. Not only the smut, but the jumping right into it. J and S wham-o! Meh, you know I love me some cliffies. I gave some answers this chapter, but as usual my answers tend to led to more question, muahahahahahaha!

**Bowie'smistress: **I don't know? Will she? Won't she? Why was he in such a hurry to dump her there? Is she 100% dumb? Thank you, thank you! Queen of the lemons is a grand title. I think I've also been christened the Queen of all things twisty, lol!

** xxyangxx2006:** Hey, haven't seen you in awhile! Real life caught you in for awhile? It can do that. You have missed a lot, but glad you're back! Thanks!

** HachimansKitsune: Hehe! **Thought you'd enjoy that. How's your blood pressure? I know, sooooo many questions, right? Soon, precious, soon...

**Shenlong Girl: **Yeah, I think most everyone feels about the same as you. Mission accomplished!

** Autumn O'Shea Swan:** Good thing you can't put this as your screen saver, lol!

**FaerieKitteh: **Thanks, thanks, thanks! I aim to please. :o)

**futrCSI1490: **LOL, yeah, that was exactly the effect I was shooting for, glad it worked. And there's is actually a logical reason (other than fun) that I wrote it like that. Part of the Q/A coming up in future chapters. He did seem frustrated...interesting that. Thanks, hey, no worries. I'm kind of behind for ch 14 on FP right now. Exchanging things with other writer for beta work and things are sort of stalled right now; it's all good.

**.vampiress: **LOL, I'm trying! I have 3 fanfic in progress, 3 originals, and editing for another writer, plus my full time job and my handmade jewelry business. That's also not counting my husband, my parrots and my random art urges. :o) Thanks!

**AprilRaeofSunshine: **Awesome! Glad I'm really keeping you on your toes!

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><p><strong>AN: So I know this chapter is short, but it's choke full of good info. But as usual, how much is Jareth telling the truth, how much is he lying? Only he knows (and me, muahahahahaha!) Seriously though, I considered adding more to this chapter, but it ends on the cliff so nicely (I'm sure you all disagree and hate me immensely) however, it flows into the next chapter much better this way. You'll just have to trust me. I know, I know, but have I ever truly let ya'll down before? And that doesn't count - whatever you're thinking. :o) I've also got the next chapter of 'Falling' nearly finished and it'll probably with in a day or so. Thanks for reading!**

**This is in response to moira hawthorne's review/question regarding this chapter:**

**Who says the Lady of the Lake is the one who seduced Merlin in this version?**

**Morgana was also known as Morgaine, Morgan Le Fay, Morgane, Morgane, etc. Her sister was The Lady of the Lake was also known as: Nimue, Viviane, Elaine, Niniane, Nivian, Nyneve, Evienne (in some versions)**

**In other, much later, versions Morgana is the one who seduces and traps Merlin. They both have versions in which they study magic under him, and work against him and Arthur.**

**Given that this legend has been rewritten ad nauseam since the 1100's and that Lancelot or the Grail (let only it wasn't called the 'HOLY Grail')weren't even in the original version, I'm using my creative license to play with Jareth's mythology. I decided this mainly because most people are familiar with Morgana, but not Viviane or Elaine (outside of Lancelot's doomed lover, and don't even get me started) due to the movie Excalibur in the '80's.**

**These two ladies are often crisscrossed, so I figured WTH. Besides...who says he's even telling the truth?**

**Muhahahahahaha!**

**Enjoy!**

**Jinx**

**:o)  
><strong>


	11. All Mine

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><p><strong>All Mine...<strong>

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><p><strong>.<strong>

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Jareth leads me down a dimly lit hall, more of his clothing materializing as we walk. Neither of us speaks, but I feel his eyes on me occasionally, searching, perhaps for a reaction to his bombshells? I'm determined to expose nothing of my distress, though I am rocked to my very soul - confused and uncertain.

How can I believe anything he tells me? How can I not? I remember a saying from my childhood, "You either believe everything or nothing of what a person tells you." How can there be half measures in trust, especially when dealing with the likes of Jareth? Exactly. I'm stymied, therefore I don't know what to think or do anymore.

I felt the return of my magic as a tingle across my skin as soon as we left the dampened room. Knowledge that he also has access to his powers keeps me subdued for the present. I accept, now after everything, how much stronger he is than me. Whether or not his heritage is true; what if it is?

We enter the same great room in which I first entered a day and more ago; the double doors wing open at Jareth's silent, sweeping hand. The damage I caused no longer exists; furniture and wall hangings are in pristine condition. I feel oddly ... erased.

"Sarah, how are you feeling?" David asks from the far side of the room, standing from a wing-backed chair.

"David!" Conflicting emotions spiral from my heart to my gut; I don't know how to feel about him either, or what to say, whether I can trust him or not. He looks completely healthy from the ordeal I subjected him to, and I wonder if Jareth healed him. If so, does his magic differ so much from mine? Or is it just another illusion? "I'm alright," my eyes sidle to Jareth as I slip my arm from his, "for now."

David smiles faintly and nods. "Good, good."

"You're looking better."

"Yes," he shuffles his feet, "thanks."

Jareth coughs and we both turn towards him. "I've explained why she's here, David."

"Oh," David glances at me, "she's agreed then?"

"She has reservations yet."

"_Reservations_?" I distance myself from Jareth.

"WHICH," Jareth continues speaking to David over my objection, "are to be expected given our history."

"Do you mind NOT talking about me as if I'm not here?"

"My apologies." Jareth gives me a tight smile and a half bow, his hair slips over one brocade-clad shoulder.

David's head swivels between us, a look of impatience clear on his features. "Regardless, I want what we agree to."

"In due time, my boy."

"What did you agree to?" I ask.

"Nothing you need be concerned about, my Sarah."

"In due time? You said to get her here; I've done that!"

"What the hell are you two talking about?"

"And you'll get what I promised," Jareth told David in a tense voice, ignoring me. "In. Due. Time."

"I've waited long enough!" David shouted, stepping into Jareth's personal space. I hear Jareth's growl and predict his reaction before David - the crystal strikes David in the chest, freezing him in place. A scream tangles in my throat, fearful of calling attention to me as I watch Jareth circle his latest victim.

"Son or not, you will wait upon _my_ whim," he says to the statuesque David. I can't tell whether or not he can hear Jareth, so I don't know if David is privy to the truth of his heritage. I suppose it really doesn't matter at this point. Around the immobilized David, Jareth turns his sharp-toothed grin upon me. Chills race down my spine. "I really do need your answer, Sarah."

"M-my answer?"

He reaches a hand out to me, slides around David. "Stay and be my queen?"

"Or else." My arms remain plastered to my sides.

"Well," he shrugs, "there really isn't an, 'or else', I'm afraid."

Oh God, Oh God, this is it. This is what's he wanted all along. He needs me for something.

"Why?" I ask, keeping my spine and voice strong in the face of my life-long nemesis. "What do you want from me?"

"So clever, my precious Sarah." He drops his arm, causing his brocade coat to rustle. He glides towards me, and I resist flinching, jutting my chin. "You were right earlier, about your family. The Williams' are particularly gifted with a type of Earth magic well suited to my needs. You especially." He traces my defiant chin with one bare finger; goosebumps raise and spread downwards until my nipples harden. I feel myself start to pant but refuse to break his peculiar gaze.

"You used me. You used my family all these years."

"Yes. While you allowed me to escape, I required your family to keep me grounded here."

"Oh God..."

He chuckled softly, pulling his finger lower along my neck. "Nothing so dramatic."

I tremble, enthralled, afraid. What should I do? I knew he could destroy or capture me with a snap of his fingers.

He continued both in voice and caress. "A mere glamour worked easily enough to keep my bloodline attached to yours for each generation. Ironic really, what I did for Uther, and what was once forbidden to me, should now be my salvation."

"Forbidden?"

His finger moved lower while his eyes held mine. My nipples crinkle at his teasing touch through the velvet of my dress, and a gush of warmth floods lower. Through my fear, I want so much for him to rip my clothes away and take me as he did before. Take me until I have no choices left. It's not fair how he can draw up this illicit passion with a single fingertip. He should sate the demon within me until nothing remains of Sarah Williams.

"I was once bound to certain ethics, but no longer." He pinches my nipple, hard; I gasp and throw my head back. "Now I take what I want, _what I need_." My bodice is torn from my chest, exposing me to his burning eyes. "As do you, my queen."

"Jareth..." I moan. I'm damned. I know without doubt I am damned beyond redemption. And suddenly I don't care anymore.

"Fuck me," I say. "I am your queen."

"Yes!" He grabs me roughly, pulling the rest of my dress from my overheated body. "YES!"

Before I can speak or scream, Jareth teleports us to the wood table at the opposite side of the room - his clothes vanish as well - and slams my back into the splintered surface. I love it; the pain of each tiny wood knife cuts into me as he spreads my legs and plunges inside fully. The splitting pain is exquisite. Finally, after everything, I can admit to myself that I've missed this.

I've missed him.

"Harder," I manage between panting gasps. "_Harder_!" My nails claw his back; I feel the shreds of his flesh, the warm blood seeping between my fingers. "Yes!" I tuck my head to his shoulder, falling into the swaying rhythm.

"You're mine, Sarah Williams," he whispers in my ear, his cock striking deep as he swirls his hips to hit all the right spots. I tighten and tingle inside.

"Yes, always yours..." I mumble, digging my nails in deeper.

He's right. I've always been his. How could I ever have thought otherwise? I've been a fool. But I'm home now, his cock pounding me apart from the inside, my nipples so hard they hurt. And every second is torturous bliss.

I wrap my legs tighter around his wrist, pull them higher up his torso; he grunts as the change forces him farther into me. I want to subsume him until we're one. The table rattles and shakes when his pace alters from fast to frenzied. Allowing my head to twist to one side as Jareth bites my neck, I see the frozen figure of David across the room.

I'd forgotten David. Can he hear us? Does he know what goes on? A small voice tells me I should feel guilty, but when my orgasm builds, fuzzing out my higher brain functions, it washes out that niggling just as Jareth's growl fills my ear. His cock pulses hard within me, cresting with my climax, piercing my womb with sharp, wondrous pleasure making my feet cramp.

I scream. My back arches and I flay his back, blood flying. He howls, pulls upright from my grip, grimacing, and he shoves me flat to the table, neck cords straining with his final, filling thrust.

Slowly we come back to ourselves, panting. His mystical eyes are glazed. His platinum hair is sweaty and sticking to his face. He's gorgeous and he's all mine.

"Sarah." Jareth leans down, kisses me then brushes his thumb over my swollen lips, smearing his blood over them. I taste his salty tang; I lick my lips, wanting more of my Goblin King to consume. A brilliant light sparks over his face; he knows. He's always known me better than I've known myself.

"Yes?" I ask, drowsy, allowing my arms to slide down his back.

"I need you to do something for me."

"Anything."

He smiles. It's malevolent. _I love it._

Inside me, I feel him hardening again, and God help me, my passion instantly rises to match. Right now, I would allow him to fuck me, use me, take me in any manner he wanted and still I'd beg for more. He's my enemy, my lover, my worst nightmare and my greatest fantasy. His eyes slip from mine as his hips begin the dance again. My own hips rise to meet his lazy thrusts.

"My queen, my perfect match..."

"Yes..." I close my eyes and groan.

"I want you to fuck David."

My eyes snap open. He's serious; I can tell it in the line of his jaw, the glint of his expression. His thrusting speeds up and I'm lost to the glorious joy he gives me. "Yes," my eyes drift shut; my head lolls to the side, facing David again, "yes ..."

"Good girl."

Jareth fucks me on that table for hours, I think. I lose track of time, but what care I for time anymore when my Goblin King is wringing out every ounce of pleasure and pain my body possesses. Every position, every orifice, everything ... it's all mine to revel in as long as I give him what he wants. I don't care anymore about rules or taboos or even family. This is my chance to be happy, my chance to take what I want.

All Mine...

**.**

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><p><strong>Buffy<strong>: LOL, What if he is? What if he isn't? Does it matter? Talk about a mind fuck, muhahahahahaha!

**Kuroneko388**: Awesome! Thanks! Lots more smut in this one and another twist!

AprilRaeofSunshine: Eager huh? Hope this helps. I bet everyone felt a little betrayed, bewildered... Exactly what I've been plotting ever since I first thought of this idea months and months ago. It just took me awhile to work out the right details in my head so I could write it the way I wanted without cheesing it out.

**PhoenixBlade**: Muahahahaha! He is a bastard! (Hint: Don't forget that) His is sexy too and there's still more boinking in the next chapters!

**Initial Brainfreeze**: Really? Would love to know what expletives you uttered during last chapter. lol! I'm glad you've stuck with it too. I know Queen and this fic are the mainstream Laby fics, but then I think that's part of their appeal. One can read J/S saccharine all the time. But hard core Dark J/S is hard to find. Glad you're enjoying it!

**Bowie'sMistress**: I LOVE that title! I officially accept! I am the Queen of the Lemon Twists! Awesome! Are there cookies with that?

**Hachimanskitsune**: Muhahahahahahaha! I am evil and getting evil-er! But at least there's smut.

**Lady Augustin**: Thanks! LOL, your thought process is exactly what I'm plotting for people to go through because that's basically what Sarah's going through. What to believe, what not to believe...argh! More answers are coming!

**moira hawthorne**: Yes, that's exactly why I named it that. I liked the homage right off months ago, and from there it was a short trip to create the story to support it. I just had to work out how to write it believably. I do hope there are other well-read literature bookworms out there who will understand the connection. Those who don't - just ask and I'll explain in detail. The title is also foreshadowing in the classic sense of the word. :o)

**Autumn O'Shea Swan**: Lovely...just like I like it! :o)

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><p><strong>AN: Well my lovely readers...we're getting close to the end. I know, it's bittersweet for me too. Originally this fic intimidated me for along time. Now I got on such a roll with it that I'm finished writing it. That's right - you heard me. I'm done. There's two more chapters after this which I'm editing and polishing right now. The next one is much longer (almost 3000) and the last is about 1500. It'll pace it perfectly, just like I like. There's more smutty smut smut. And, what I feel, is the perfect ending. What everyone else thinks...will be interesting to find out. I really do enjoy finding out reader's reactions to extreme fics. Fluff is easy to predict. Extreme brings out the truth IMO. This will be fun! Muhahahahahaha! And...AND, it sort leaves things open for another sequel (if I ever think of one - no promises!)**

**Enjoy!**

**Jinx**

**:o)**


	12. Sleight of Hand

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><p><strong>Sleight of Hand<strong>

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><p><strong>.<strong>

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><strong>

Time passes and heals all wounds, or at least numbs the emotions.

I'm sitting at the vanity in Jareth's bedroom, brushing my hair and waiting. He removed the dampening spell after I agreed to be his queen, which was followed by several hours of celebratory sexcapades with David as an involuntary witness. That was a few days ago, I think. I'm not sure. He's kept me busy in his bedroom since then. We left David frozen in the great room, and I haven't much thought about him until now.

Jareth only left now because it's time for me to fulfill my agreement. He's gone to reclaim David and bring him to me; it's why I'm thinking of David again. As I brush my long hair, working out the snarls after my bath, I wonder if David knows Jareth's plan. He obviously worked with Jareth to trick me here (and at this point I hold no grudges for his lying - why bother) but I wonder - how much does he know? I can't imagine Jareth has told him everything. He never tells anyone everything.

I put the brush down with a soft, metallic click. For that matter, what else hasn't he told me? I know there's more. There must be. The question is: How will he use it against me and when, whatever it is? I'm suddenly cold at the realization that my happy ending might be an illusion. The irony is thick around me, makes me pull my brocade dressing robe snugger as I shiver.

One cannot escape karma. I know this. What yet is in store for me? Good or evil? Which do I deserve? At one point I would claim victimhood, but now ... I'm not certain any longer.

Especially as I think of Jareth's touching me, his tongue parting my intimate folds, exploring and tasting deeply. Hours I could spend under his ministrations, hours I did, his slender fingers pumping in and out of both of my openings, alternating with his cock forcing me wide. My internal muscles clench at the sensory memory, sending tingles upwards; I moan and bite my lower lip, feeling my breasts tingle and tighten yet again.

How many times can the man bring me to orgasm? Now just thinking of his fucking me brings to me the brink of climax, and my fluids soak the dressing robe bunched beneath my thighs. I rock on the vanity stool, rubbing my newly sensitized skin against the rough material. It's not enough. Drifting down, my hands slip past the edges of the robe to roll and pinch my nipples.

I catch my heavy-lidded gaze in the mirror. I'm panting and flushed; I'm wanton and nearly nude pleasuring myself, my hair gleaming darkly. I lick my lips; will I ever be satiated? What's happening to me? That little voice from earlier asks, shouldn't I care? Probably, but I'm so aroused I can't seem to focus on anything other than finding my release.

"Jareth, where are you?" My voice is husky; I hardly recognize it.

"Here, precious," he says in my ear, voice silken and smooth - tongue tracing the swirls of my ear. The warm, moist touch makes me spasm on the edge - so close!

"_Please_..."

"Soon, my queen, you're ready for our agreement?"

"Yes." I nod, eager, and pivot on the bench, allowing my robe to fall completely open as I stand.

"Excellent." Jareth steps back and turns, revealing David standing in the bedroom with us. He looks awake and as eager as I, standing naked and glorious.

"And after?" I ask Jareth, my eyes pinned on David, he's nearly panting with need.

"The world is yours," Jareth says softly into my ear, then he turns to David, sweeping his arm and bowing his head. "Your reward, as requested."

David's smile is blinding. "At last! I knew it was possible!"

Jareth leans closer to me again and whispers, "Go to him, Sarah, fulfill your agreement to me and be my queen forever in truth this time."

"You're staying?"

"Of course." He smirks. "I'm sure you'll perform admirably, but I need to be quite sure."

The thought of Jareth watching me have sex with his son should creep me out, but for some reason it heightens my state of arousal until I almost faint from dizziness. Oddly, I want Jareth to watch as David fucks me, maybe even join us. Oh God, I start to rock my pelvis and rub my thighs together; I can't stand up anymore without holding onto something.

"Are you alright?" David asks, moving to help me. The feel of his bare hand on my waist flares over my skin.

"Yes, please, we have to, I need you..." The words stumble over each other and I lean towards the undressed bed.

"Oh, yes ... I've wanted," and then he's kissing me, pushing my robe from my naked body and his hands are cupping my breasts, his thumbs flicking over my hypersensitive peaks. Groans fall from us simultaneously, and I'm caressing him while he walks me backwards to the bed.

I encase his erection in my hand, he's as generous as his father - maybe even a bit longer, and stroke up and down; he hisses and thrusts with me. Over his shoulder, I see Jareth observing with a strange look of clinical interest. I would've thought he'd be gaining pleasure watching us; perhaps things need to get farther along? Fine with me.

"David."

"Yeah, baby?"

"I need you inside me," I whisper then bite his ear; he shudders.

"Fuck yeah; I wanna be inside you, always..."

His words make me tingle down below; he sounds so much like Jareth, looks so similar, but fucking him will be a pleasure all its own. I lose my balance as he tips me backwards to the bed. He leans over, grips my hips with both hands, wraps both of my legs around his waist then positions himself at my entrance.

"This is gonna be so good, baby."

"Yeah," I say, looking at his lust fogged eyes and mussed hair. Bracing my hands on his arm, I tilt my hip and hold them steady as he presses into me. _It's fucking brilliant_. His perfect cock slowly pierces my slick folds as if we were made for each other.

"Yes," I slam my head against the bed, "yes! God, David, fuck me!" He hits my cervix then pushes a bit more with an amazing rolling hip thrust until I gasp, my heels digging into his ass. Then he leans over me, buries his face in my neck, and breathes deeply. One hand supporting his weight, he holds me tight with the other, his weight shoves me into the bedding.

"So good, so fucking tight..." he mumbles before he starts his steady rhythm, and all I can do is cling to him, babbling and crying out whenever his hits my sensitive spots. I'm dimly aware of Jareth moving closer, wearing a faint smile. Some part of my rational mind still wonders why he wants this to happen between David and I, what does he gain? But the rest of me can't muster the energy to care for anything but reaching my pinnacle.

"Close ... close..."

"Yeah baby." David looks up and smiles, thrusting harder until my vision blurs. "I wanna see you come, Elina, I love you." What? No ... it can't... David's guileless face adores me and my heart spasms as I remember.

_'Becca, my princess and Elina, my heart.' _

I break David's worshipful gaze, the new emotion of guilt shredding me inside out, and stare at the ceiling instead. Instantly, my arousal cools. He thinks I'm his dead wife, and Jareth has obviously used magic on us both to bring this about. I want to vomit feeling David's cock thrusting in and out of me. Every pleasurable stroke now chafes like sandpaper. Oh, God ... what am I doing? Why am I? Are we even truly related? My mind suddenly feels sharp and jagged as clarity returns.

What am I going to do? David is still murmuring endearments as if I'm Elina and rocking into me, while I try to fake it to keep either man from figuring out I'm no longer interested. I haven't much time before one of them figures it out. A few feet away, Jareth smirks as he thinks we're approaching our climaxes. I can tell he doesn't realize what I've heard.

"David," I whisper into his ear. I put a bit a magic behind my words, hopefully too faint for Jareth to sense but enough to dissolve David's fog.

"Yeah baby?" More thrusting, he grunts and I want to sob for the horror.

"Listen, don't stop not matter what I say."

"Mmm ... yeah."

"I'm not Elina; I'm Sarah."

"What? That's..." He pulls back slightly, squints.

"Elina died, remember?" I whisper against his lips, pretending to kiss him.

His brows furrow and his thrusting slows. "Auto-flight..."

"_Don't stop._"

"Sarah?" A twinge of clarity, "but ... what happened?"

"Keep moving!" I say in a low, hissing whisper, then moan and throw my head back. "So close, yes, YES!" David catches the hint and speeds back up, appropriately grunting. We go like this for a few minutes, but it's blatant how much David loves Elina because he quickly loses his enthusiasm.

Jareth coughs a few times. "Problems, Sarah?"

"Hmm? What?" I raise my head over David's shoulder. "No problems." I groan loudly and swivel my hips, but the jig is up while others are down. David eases from my arms, my legs fall to the bed with dull thump. I lay there, uncertain what to do.

"Don't bother. He knows." David slips from inside of me, turns and stands. "Don't you, Uncle?"

"Such a pity." Jareth shakes his head.

"That you couldn't finish tricking family members into having sex?" I snap, earlier compliance evaporating, pushing myself up on my elbows. "Assuming we're even family." David's startled glance tells me he's as confused as I am.

"Of course not, precious thing." His head tilts to one side as he grins, and David moves to protect me from Jareth, not realizing how ridiculous that is. "A pity I'll have to force you." His wrists twist faster than I can blink and two crystals fly at us: One strikes me, the other strikes David. Both of us release strangled gasps as our new fates are revealed.

My wrists are tied together and I'm dangling from the ceiling by a thick cord, my feet barely brushing the floor. I sense his magic woven in the bonds; it strangles my magic. David stands in front of me, very glassy eyed with an extremely prominent erection pointed in my general direction yet again. Jareth stands to his left, his own erection generously standing at attention. The room is now empty save for the three of us stripped naked. This has just moved from kinky to bad to horrific. Normally I'd get off on that, but I'm not in control right now. I admit, I haven't been in control since I left the mists.

"Jareth, what the hell are you doing?" My voice is a tad shrill.

"What I must to survive, precious." He leans forward and gently kisses me. I don't return it. "I understand why you're angry now, but you'll eventually see it my way."

I spit at him. "We don't you explain it now? Explain why you're about to have my ancestor rape me."

"Such a harsh word." He 'tskes' me. "If you'd allowed the glamour to continue, you'd both have enjoyed it guilt-free, so it's really you're fault I'm having to resort to force."

"That's right, blame the victim. Classic abuser behavior."

"Now there's no need for your sarcasm. It's not _my_ fault you're missing out on the more pleasurable aspects of my plan."

"Fuck you!"

"No, not me," he grins, "at least not right now, "a snap of his fingers while his eyes stay on mine, "David."

"Yes?" David says dully.

"Do your duty."

"Yes." David obeyed without hesitation, reaching for my hanging legs and (despite my best efforts) spreading them wide and quickly positioning his magically erect cock once more at my entrance. I had no leverage in which to fight him; every push and pull sent me swinging from my cord, chafing my bound wrists and smashing my arms into my ears.

"I can't believe you'd stoop to this. You want revenge that badly?" I ask while trying to wiggle my hips to delay the inevitable. David's frustrated grunts translate to his fingers digging into my thighs; I know they'll be bruises, assuming I survive.

"You have a difficult time with understanding that I don't _want _to do this, I am required to do this if I wish to remain as I am."

"What do you mean?" The tip of David's cock parts me, but I'm not dripping wet anymore and it hurts. Jareth circles around behind me and wraps his arms around my torso. Resting his chin on my shoulder, he's inches from my face as David forces himself into my drying body, scraping my abraded flesh. Tears collect in my eyes; I grit my teeth, refusing to cry out.

"Precious thing, why on earth do you think I needed you to have sex with David and what do you think I promised him and why?" Jareth grabs David hips, nestled between my legs and yanks them closer to me, smashes my face into David's shoulder.

"I ... ugh..." The pain of David's cock dry impalement makes it difficult for me to focus, but his rhythm is as steady and hard as before, with Jareth's assistance both magically and physically.

"I need your bloodline to stay in this world, to stay young. I need our bloodline to continue, strong and sure, and since you and he are the last direct descents of Robert Williams, I need to reinforce that bloodline."

"No, please..." I thrash my head to and fro. Jareth kisses my neck, and snuggles against my back until I feel his cock brush between legs. I can't move or shift, pinned against David's chest.

"Of course," I hear his verbal shrug, "I used David's love for his deceased wife to control him, making promises I had no intention or even ability to keep. And before you ask, you silly girl, no I did not kill Elina and Becca. That was tragic, proving the fragility of normal humans." Jareth shivers. "I did, however, burn our remaining, useless offshoots. The family tree needed a bit of a pruning. I'd hoped his being alone might spur his reproductive urges."

I feel Jareth reach around and fondle my breasts then my nub, and God help me I became wet again. And while it eases David's way, I fear there's more to it than my pleasure

"Unfortunately, my plot backfired," Jareth continues in my ear, "instead of David remarrying and reproducing another daughter, one I would have eagerly impregnated as soon as she matured, the lack of any family made him loose any zest for living."

"You," I gasp, "you've been raping my ancestors," another gasp as Jareth drew more involuntary pleasure from me, "for decades?"

"Rape really is so pedestrian, don't you think?" Jareth's hips rock into my back side while David grunts, his grip is iron on my out-flung legs. "I prefer, seduce or glamour. But, basically, yes."

"Oh God ... oh God..." I felt sick as David begins to feel good inside; my body's response becoming wetter and warmer. He's hilt deep into me, pounding and lost to Jareth's magic.

"But is David really..."

"My son? Either that or my grandson, he might be my nephew, I can't really be sure any more."

"_What_?"

"Well, I've tricked so many females in your family, both blood relation and married, that the genetics are a bit scrambled. He's definitely my direct descendant, however, but you, my queen," he whispers in my ear as he strokes and fondles me, "you're the direct descendent of Robert Williams. _You_ are the holder of the strongest Earth Magic I've ever encountered, and you will grant me children and blood ties to this world until the end of time."

"No..." I sob once, desperately.

"I couldn't allow you to waste away forever in that hell, not when you could serve me." I feel something press against my entrance, something parallel to David's cock and I knew. Finally, I understood what his plan had always been for me, one way or another.

"Jareth, please don't..." I say in a small voice.

"But, Sarah," the pressure against my canal grew and expanded; Jareth and David both groan. "Imagine what," Jareth pants, "I can accomplished with," a sharper stab into me, "all three us combined."

"_NO_!" I struggle and thrash, but can't free myself from between the two men and the bonds.

"Shhh..." Jareth brushes my hair back from neck, kisses my shoulder. "It'll be beautiful, precious thing. I promise," he says with a heavy thrust of his cock into me. Using David's as a guide, he forces himself into my already enlarged body, stretching the skin until I feel tearing. The pain, _fuck_, oh God, the pain of both of them inside of me is unbearable. I wasn't prepared for this. In that Jareth was right, had I allowed the glamour to continue I would be enjoying it now; instead I'm being raped beyond what I thought possible. Even in my depravity, I never attempted this. Screaming, I fling my torso backwards only to be captured in Jareth's embrace.

"P-please, Jareth, please..." I sob again, head lolling onto him.

"Continue, my boy," he says harshly when David falters. "We're near completion and she's," Jareth sniffs me, "ovulating."

I want to die.

**.**

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><p><strong>Bowie's Mistress: <strong>Is this lemony enough? Even Jareth isn't sure what David's relation is to him anymore other than direct blood. Tells you a lot about what Jareth's been up to doesn't it? A bit of incest? You could say that...

**Kuroneko388: **Hmm... sort of. Not in the traditional sense, but he is using magic on both of them and he is far more powerful than she is.

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **Lol, I am soooo corrupting you.

**Lady Augustin: **No, David didn't know (he did call him Uncle) Is your guess correct about what David wanted? As for a sequel, who knows. I left it in such a way that it could end here or continue. I would only continue it if I come up with a great idea. It took me a year to come up with and write this one.

**Hachimanskitsune: **You are so close with your guess. soooooooo close! I'd say only one part is off. Muhahahahahaha! You're getting better at figuring out my goals.

**PhoenixBlade: **There was lots of boinking and still some more... as more Mordred...hmmm...

**eidastoryteller: **Woohoo! Thanks! He's very powerful. He's been around a long, long time. Yeah, I'm sort of sad too, but I'm glad this has gone as well as it has. Well you could always re-read it!

**ang3licdr3amer: **LOL, you zipped right through all those chapters! Oh, there's a surprise or two left... I never leave a fic like this without throwing more in.

**Shenlong Girl: **Merlin...yep. I had that idea months ago, hence the title. As for your confusion...this chapter should, sort of, clear that up.

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><p><strong>AN: I admit, I'm eager to finish this off, probably as eager as y'all are to read it. Just one chapter left after this. And this one is the longest I think. Enjoy! And don't hate me.**

**Jinx**

**:o)  
><strong>


	13. A Breeze Dances

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><p><strong>A Breeze Dances<strong>

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><p><strong>.<strong>

**.  
><strong>

Hope is gone.

Jareth has always been five steps ahead of me during our games. I only think I win during ends which aren't really endings. It's only now, as both Jareth and a magically-zombified David rape me simultaneously, that I understand how woefully stupid and short-sighted I've been. I should've stay at the castle, accepted my punishment and been satisfied. I should've...

Some type of fluid seeps out of me; I can't see it from my bound and hanging position held snug between them, but I strongly suspect it's blood. I'm beyond physical pain now, and emotional too for that matter. I've given up as Jareth ignores my begging pleas. I want to be angry, but really ... what's the point? I willingly blundered into his trap, willingly accepted being queen because of my unresolved daddy issues, and because some part of my wounded heart wanted to believe some part of him might actually love me.

I am truly pathetic.

What's taking so long? They're both grunting and moaning and thrusting while my body is a rag-doll to their reproductive urges. If it weren't for the strap I'm still hanging by, I'd be pooling on the floor. Don't tell me, Jareth wants to enjoy this too? Drag out every last second? Fuck. Every one of my muscles is torn between cramping and releasing in complete surrender.

"Keep going, boy!" Jareth says, his voice threatening.

It awakens a faint curiosity. Subtlety, I raise my head smushed against David's chest. Is Jareth's concentration slipping? David's body is still going through the motions of rape, but his eyes, they're ... clearer ... and they're gazing at me with regret and pain as vicious as my own.

"David?" I mouth his name so Jareth won't know. His jaw clenches and his eyes narrow down at me as he tries to nod. His not fully in control of his body, but his mind is coming back. We're both being raped by Jareth, only I'm the lucky recipient of 100% of the physical torment. I suppose, I guess David is feeling rather tormented physically too, just in a less painful manner.

Gulping, I mentally scramble for ways out of this mess. My magic is cut off by Jareth's magic, just as my freedom is, by the enchanted wrist bonds. The bonds ... I glance upwards with only my eyes. If only I could free myself then both problems would be resolved.

"You're so perfect, precious thing," Jareth murmurs in a gruff voice. I recognize the pitch; he's close. Last time I heard it a few days ago, I came the hardest in my life. This time I want to retch. But maybe it's a good thing; he'll be distracted as he forces his last few strokes into me, striving for his climax. Grunting and panting against my back, his breath is hot and humid on my skin. How did I ever think I could be queen like this? It must've been his magic fogging my better sense.

"David," I mouth again, suddenly inspired; he's still focusing on me while his hips automatically pivoted in and out, in and out. "Wishing magic." A brow arches, he's contemplating my quiet message. "Knife." My eyes travel upwards again, and bright understanding clicks in his eyes.

He can't control his body, but he can control his mind. I can't control my magic, but I can control my body once I'm free. I remember years ago, when I wished for a glass of water after the first time I gave Jareth oral sex, he seemed to have heard my unspoken wish and granted it. Nobody ever said a wish had to be out loud if you wanted it bad enough. I learned that the hard way. Right now, I'd say we both want our freedom fucking bad enough, and David's the one with the wishing magic this time since I've moved beyond the simple ability.

His eyes close tight, skin crinkling around the edges at the same time I hear Jareth's grunts increasing. Come on, David, hurry! Wish harder, wish faster, wish, wish, WISH, _WISH_!

A simple, double-edged knife appears in my tangled hands, just above the bindings. Completely by reflex, as my fingers are numb, I clench the handle and twist the blade until it bites into the heavy gauge cord. A few, quick sawing motions and my main support releases the same time both Jareth and David cry out their climaxes. We all collapse in a sweaty, twisted heap with Jareth on top. If I had been able to feel more pain at that point, I'm sure it would've hurt like hell.

"Well," Jareth drawls, "what have we here?" He reaches around me for the knife.

"Don't!" I struggle to grasp it, but my hands are still tied and my body is slick, used and tired. Jareth slips from inside of me as he stretches for the knife, and I hide it between David and me. David helps by covering it with his hands and tucking around me. Standing over us, Jareth smirks. I can only imagine at the grotesque image we make - me straddling David, bleeding, as his cock gradually oozes from my body.

"Really, as if a little blade poses any threat to me." Jareth leans down. "You already know my powers far exceed yours, and now the deed is done." His laughter fills the bare, stone room, echoing and rebounding in my ears. "Soon enough we'll know if our seed takes within you, or if we'll have to give it another go."

"_Oh God_." At first I thought I spoke, sounding so defeated.

"Really, my boy, don't tell me you didn't enjoy some part of our little soiree."

"You're a sick bastard," David replies.

"No?" Jareth straightened. "Pity, maybe next time you'll allow the glamour to stay as per our agreement."

"I never agreed to that!" David shouts, nearly deafening me, but I can't complain when I agree with his sentiment. "You told me you could bring them back! You told me we'd be together again, for real!" A sob chokes out of him, and his head falls back to the floor while I still sit astride him, clutching the now useless knife. "You lied about everything," David mutters miserably, his body reflecting his psychological thrashing.

Jareth shrugs. "Continue to obey me and I'll make it pleasant for you."

Oh, now that was just too much! "Fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave?" I say, causing Jareth to jerk, face furrowing for a moment. "Still using the same old lines, Goblin King?"

"Sa-rah," he says, slowly, warning me.

"I won't," David whispers so quietly I barely hear him. I feel his fingers join mine around the blade's handle again.

"I won't be used," he says louder.

"David," Jareth steps closer, "what are you doing?"

"I won't be a monster." I feel David tug the knife toward him, tilting it. I look away from Jareth and down at David; our eyes meet and I understand. Maybe because we're blood, maybe because I understand isolation, I don't know, but I understand and I'm willing to help him. To end it.

"I won't be alone anymore." David yanks the knife, hard, the same time I shove and the point goes into his chest, slicing and cutting. I feel the metal skitter on ribs, he gasps softly - almost gratefully - and then it slips through to his heart.

"Sorry, Sarah..."

"NO!"

Bright crimson wells up around the blade, tingeing the silver to a dull gray; it coats my hands which are white-knuckled at his chest. The last of my family smiles, and I watch his eyes fade and dim. Peace quickly settles over David Tobias Williams' body, his grip slackens on the blade while mine remains tight.

"**NO**!" Jareth yells again, likely only a few seconds later, and flings me from David's body. I strike the stone floor enough to numb my legs and I crawl away as best I can. His shrieking undos me, frays apart my already tattered pieces. I cover my ears and huddle against the cold wall, shivering, but not from cold.

His crying is not that of the grief-stricken, as if the Goblin King understands grief. One would need to know how to love in order to grieve. No, it's the high-pitched wailing of the Damned. Before my eyes, I watch Jareth dissolve, rapidly becoming more insubstantial with every passing second. Turning to me, his eyes still solid and fiery, he stalks forward and tries to strike me. His hands pass through me like mist.

Mist...

"You fucking bitch! Do you know what you've done?"

Grinning, I stand on rubbery legs, blood and semen dripping in splatters to the floor, one hand on the wall for balance. "Yeah, I do. This time I know exactly what I've done."

He growls and lunges, passing through me again. I turn to face what's left of him.

"Go back to hell, _Goblin King_." Every word spills from my lips as triumphant wine, making me heady. His howls linger long after his body fades, his mismatched eyes the last to disappear. I stand in that room with David's body a long time before I remember to try my magic. Oddly enough, it still works. I don't understand how or why or even how long I'll keep it. Right now I don't care; I just want peace, like David.

It's finally over. I won.

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><p><strong>...<strong>

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><p>It's been a year, a very strange year.<p>

First off let me explain a few things:

I kept my magic; I used it to alter Jareth's will, so I was the sole beneficiary of the entire Williams' estate (hell, it should legally be mine anyhow - but how do you explain you're dead, you're not dead, you were magically imprisoned, etc); I'm now ridiculously rich even by 22nd century inflation standards (Jareth knew how to invest - I'll give him that); I arranged a private but legal burial for David next to his family with all the honor I felt he deserved (he was as much a victim as I was); I think the combination of the sex and blood and magic and David's death allowed us to switch places, much like when Jareth first tricked me; and...

I did end up pregnant from Jareth's machinations.

That last part, I was never quite sure how to feel. Often I considered the easy abortive options they offered these days, and yet - I was all alone in the entire world. Who was this little child growing inside of me? Was it David's? Family, yes, but far enough apart in genetics to be unconcerned regarding deformities, plus medicine had fixes for so many things these days. Jareth's? Likely, and how did that bode on my future, our future?

Or perhaps some magically induced amalgamation of both men. Was that possible? Normally I would say no, but this is Jareth I'm dealing with and I must take all things into consideration. My gut tells me it's the third possibility, for why else would Jareth insist on performing the sex act in such a specific manner? Sure, he could've wanted just to hurt me, but if there's one thing I've finally learned about the Goblin King - he never does anything for merely one reason.

In the end, I kept the baby and give birth to a healthy six pound seven ounce boy with stunning, mismatched eyes. The nurses were instantly charmed by him. Of course they were - I was too. He was perfect, and only one name fit.

Tobias David Williams - in honor of my brother and my nephew.

As I stand guard over his crib, smiling at the new found (and ironic) peace he has granted me. I watch my three month old son sleep, and I pray I'll be a good mother. I pray for patience and love and all the qualities a good parent requires. I pray we've seen the last of Jareth, the last of his evil in this world and the last of everything which makes me vulnerable to him, so I may better protect my son.

I shiver, a breeze dances over my skin from an open window. I must've forgotten to close it earlier.

**.**

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><p><strong>Kuroneko388: <strong>Thanks! It was a very twisted plot line to think up and write in a believable manner. Glad you liked, hope the conclusion lived up to the rest of it. Sequel is still a maybe. This one took a year.

**AprilRaeofSunshine: **LOL, I get that a lot. Sometimes I think I don't get more reviews because readers are just gobsmacked cause my stats are way more than my reviews. *shrugs* It's all good.

**HachimansKitsune: **LOL, yeppers, you were the closest. At least the one who verbally said so. So what do you think about her getting her revenge now? Mind boggling hmm? I will take that as a compliment as Jareth consulted me on all machinations. And awesome word, btw. I'd already used that in this chappie! Have always loved that 50 center. This Jareth is def. an asshat.

**moira hawthorne: **LOLOLOL! Yeah, basically that was my reaction when I came up with this chapter. Originally it was going to go another direction, still dubcon but not so, um, dual. Then I thought...wth. It works so much better! And I get ya on the cold shower concept. I often need a *cough* break after I write.

**Angelus Draco: **Isn't he though? I love writing twisted, complex characters. Good or bad, though they tend to be bad. Twist is just more interesting in fiction, but annoying and frustrating IRL. But I do like interesting, complex people IRL too. Boring? Ugh...no thanks! What's your opinion on this chapter? :o)

**PhoenixBlade: **He is evil. But was he evil before the castle prison or because of it? Glad you're loving the smut! It's veryyyyy smutttyy!

**eidastoryteller: **You're right. Jareth cannot be trusted, ever. Sarah's just dumb like that. Glad I was able to bring it all together well enough so it's not so confusing anymore. That's difficult to do in 1st person without the villain sounding like they're giving the plot away. Oh, and

T

H

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!

**BuffyMyraRae: **LOl, yeah, it's a hellva chapter.

**Autumn O'Shea Swan: **Well, that's good to know. Don't feel quite so guilty anymore. Darker Jareth is fascinating, which is why I write him, and Sarah. So much meat to them, together and separate. And Sarah does triumphant in the end. Sort of.

**spartiechic: **Awesome! I surprised you! Muahahahaha! He needed a fresh, strong dose of Williams' blood in the bloodline. I guess we'll never know what he intended to do with Sarah now. Hmmm... Thanks!

**Bowie's Mistress: **It was very twisted, thank you, thank you. I do enjoy shocking people. I'm afraid that's been something in me since I was a teen. Fun to see people's faces, or reviews in this case, all dumbfounded. "OH no you didn't!" Muhahahaha! Oh yes I did! I will say that yes - this particular act is physically possible (I've not done it - shudder) to the best of my knowledge, it's reserved for *ahem* well practiced porn stars or those who've gotten around in one capacity or another. No judging from me, just saying, it takes a certain amount of ... stretching. 'Nuff said.

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><p><strong>AN: So here we are. At the end of this really fun, very intimidating fic for me. I super glad I wrote it and super glad for all the amazing, awesome reviews and support. I know this isn't a fic for everyone, but I hope I made it one helluva ride with all the shocking, titillating smut to keep us all warm on lonely nights. **

**While it's not a J/S ending, it's at least a happier ending than the previous fic. As I said, I've left it open for a possible sequel but no promises. I dislike writing fic just because. I will only continue this IF an great story comes to me and I believe I can write it well enough to do the previous two justice. I don't shoot for perfection, but I refuse to continue fics based solely on "I want it, I want it." That being said...never said never. Right? I am focusing more on my original fiction these days, but the Laby bug hasn't let go of me yet. It may some day, it may not. Who knows...**

**Thanks so much again! Hope you enjoyed this one as much as I did writing it! Would love a shout out!  
><strong>

**Jinx**

**:o)**


	14. Why? spoiler explanation

**A/N: So I've gotten several questions as to why Jareth disappeared and how the magic worked during the last chapter. I've answered the questions I've received, but I also decided to add a last, supplemental chapter explaining the basic mechanics of the magic. Okie-dokie, Smokie? **

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><p><strong>Why Jareth Disappeared<strong>

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><p><strong>.<strong>

.

Basically, since David was the last of the Williams family in the Above (Sarah doesn't count because he used her as an exchange, that's still in effect, the wishing magic was temporary at best) he's keeping Jareth anchored to the Above. Now with Sarah out of the castle for Jareth's use, that's on shaky ground. Jareth is not sent back as long as David's alive, but he and Sarah are in a state of limbo because one of them has to go back because of the permanent magic attached to the castle. Jareth hoped to gain a loophole once he got Sarah pregnant. He could take the baby and start a new bloodline to keep himself anchored to the Above while sending Sarah back when he was done. Assuming the baby didn't anchor Sarah as well. Her Earth magic is very strong and Jareth wasn't entirely sure how their combined baby would change it. When David died, and Sarah had yet to become impregnated (you knows there's a bit of a delay) Jareth's anchor vanished and since Sarah was Above the magic grabbed the original (Jareth) and yanked him back against his will, freeing Sarah completely. Her baby is not an anchor for her, but Jareth could use him as he used the rest of her family.

Make sense?


End file.
